


At the Bottom of the Lake

by Heylittleyahtzee (HeyYahtzee)



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 68,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6355240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyYahtzee/pseuds/Heylittleyahtzee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of her mother’s death, Laura’s father enrolls her at Silas Academy, a prestigious boarding school in the mountains outside of the city. She’s hardly set foot in the school before Carmilla glides into her life in black boots and a bad attitude. Laura can’t help hating her, and in no time they become Silas’s premiere rivals. It’s not until Laura reveals the reason she transferred that they begin seeing eye to eye, and not long after that a strange coincidence brings them closer than ever. As their relationship deepens, the two must work together to uncover the truth of a decades old myth that haunts the campus. With help from their friends, Laura and Carmilla find themselves in a little more trouble than they bargained for. They must decide once and for all if the truth is worth it, or if they should heed a wicked warning and save themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NOBODY DIES

Their eyes had been on her from the moment she walked through the door; the new girl, petite and doe-eyed, clutching a shiny, unblemished notebook against her stomach like a life-preserver.

Laura sighs and rolls her shoulders back. Even now she can’t shake the feeling of people watching her. Her fingers curl around the gold locket hanging against her collarbone. She should have picked a desk in the back. Why hadn’t she sat in the back?

Due entirely to habit, she’d picked the second to last desk in the front row. The desks were ancient and wooden, much like the ancient stone buildings that housed the dorms and the classrooms. Even the windows were Gothic, stretching nearly floor to ceiling in wrought iron frames.

Once upon a time the school had probably risen from the forest like a gem, but now the buildings are crumbling. Paint peels from the walls and rust gathers in the corners, the floors scratched and dented. Outside the trees grow close and the clouds hang low, cradling the school in mist and mystery. Not far from the room where Laura sits, the campus extends to Lake Mira, raised on concrete above the grey water where a natural cliff’s edge used to be. The damp air is pierced only by the nearby clang and whir of the ongoing construction for a new campus to eventually replace the old one, and even that is distant within the stone halls of the Robespierre building.

Laura stares at her desk, at the bright new notebook, and at the cookie shaped pencil case her dad had found for her the day before they moved. He’d dropped her off Friday morning at the time specified on the move-in day schedule, stayed long enough to fill her tiny dorm room with boxes, and disappeared in a haze of September rain and gravel dust.

She understood, of course. She knew it wasn’t like he wanted to be away from her. It’s just that he had to meet with the new landlord to get the keys to his apartment at four, the drive was long, his new job started on Monday; normal, everyday stuff.

The teacher, a graceful woman with skin like polished ebony and an endless smile, glides back and forth across the front of the room.

“Welcome to your first day of American History. I am Ms. Belmonde and I will be your teacher for this semester,” she says, shiny blue heels clicking on the dirty tile.

A piece of sheet rock dislodges from the ceiling and hits the floor with a hollow crack, a small cloud of dust and particles following it down. Two students in the back snicker loudly. Ms. Belmonde narrows her eyes at them and they fall silent. Laura glances over her shoulder in surprise and finds the other students stone-faced and still.

She quickly turns back around. Did they know something she didn’t?

“The rules are simple: act like adults, complete your assignments, and participate in class discussions. All assignments and due dates are included in the syllabus. If you have questions you can ask me after class or I will be available after school until five o’clock in my office.”

Ms. Belmonde pauses, her eyes drifting over them. No one so much as scuffs their shoes on the floor.

“I also see that we have a new student. Laura Hollis, would you mind standing up and introducing yourself to the class?” she asks brightly.

Laura blinks and straightens up. Ms. Belmonde raises an eyebrow at her, her black, manicured nails flashing against her white dress.

“Right, yeah, uh...” Laura scrambles to her feet and turns to face the class. “Hi, I’m Laura, which I guess you already know, sort of, and I... am from Toronto. Which is kinda my whole thing, actually. Not much else to report.”

“No hobbies? Interests?” Ms. Belmonde asks.

“Well…”

The door to the classroom bangs open and Laura jumps, her hand going to the locket around her neck. A girl with long, dark hair and icy white skin storms in, her mouth set in a scowl. She tosses a hall pass at Ms. Belmonde and chucks her bag against the wall, before crashing into the desk next to Laura’s like a hurricane.

And all while Laura stands there awkwardly, the eyes of her classmates on her back and the dread of it slowly creeping up her spine.

“Carmilla! This behavior will cease immediately!” Ms. Belmonde chastises.

The whispering begins again.

“Do I look like I’m planning on getting up any time soon, Mattie?” Carmilla says, picking at her nails.

“Miss Karnstein you will not speak in that tone within these walls, do you understand?”

“If I must.”

Ms. Belmonde purses her lips and turns back to the class, “I apologize Laura, please go on.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t really have anything else to say anyway.” Laura sits back down, hands fidgeting in her lap. Who walks into a class like that? Talks to a teacher like that? Laura glances at Carmilla. Carmilla’s staring at her, her eyes black like the night.

Carmilla snorts and goes back to her nails.

Laura frowns, her face flushing in embarrassment, and turns back to the lesson. She isn’t going to let one rude person ruin her first day. In fact, she’s going to make the absolute best of her day, just to spite whoever this Carmilla girl is.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard Laura focuses, she never quite forgets that Carmilla is a seat away from her.

Carmilla won’t stop moving. Either she’s twining a lock of hair around her finger or bouncing her feet, adjusting her slouch, head down on the desk with her hands dangling over the edge; every five seconds it’s something new and obnoxious.

Laura falls farther and farther behind on her notes, silently cursing Carmilla every second of every interruption. Seriously, what was her problem? If she was going to show up late and not pay attention, why come to class at all?

After an hour and fifteen unbearable minutes, Ms. Belmonde brings the lesson to a close. Laura sighs in relief and takes her time with the last few sentences. When she finally looks up she realizes that there are only three of them left in the room: herself, Ms. Belmonde, and Carmilla.

Carmilla slouches in her chair, eyes fixed on the floor, arms crossed. Ms. Belmonde leans on the edge of the teacher’s desk casually surveying the room, or at least everything that isn’t Carmilla. In fact, the two of them are outright avoiding each other.

Oh.

“Sorry, I’ll just…” Laura throws her bag over her shoulder and bolts for the door. No way she wants to be around when that bomb drops.

Out in the hall she unfolds her schedule and finds the room number for her next class. R123. Laura tilts her head in confusion. Why was there a letter at the front?

Laura walks down the hall to 123, but of course it’s empty, and she stands there wondering what to do next. As far as she knows there’s only one building, which means that her next class is apparently missing.

“Excuse me? Is there anything I can help you with?” A girl with explosive red curls and a rosy pale complexion wearing a black, velvet turtleneck appears beside Laura and nods to her schedule. Laura looks up in surprise. The girl has a little gold badge pinned to her shirt that says hall monitor. Oh. Right.

“Yeah, I can’t seem to find my chemistry class?” Laura says, smiling awkwardly.

“Oh, yes, yes, those have already been moved to the new building. The science equipment in this building is so old my grandmother used it when she went here. Only they aren’t changing the building names, so the schedules got a little mixed up in the whole kerfuffle. If you just go down this hallway and out past the library you’ll run right into it. It’s a very large, very modern monstrosity. Quite hard to miss,” the girl explains.

“Wow, I totally would not have figured that out. It’s my first day, like, ever,” Laura says sheepishly.

“Oh, how wonderful! I’m Lola Perry, but everyone just calls me Perry.”

“Laura. Thank you so much!”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Perry says. She is, in fact, very happy to help. Students like Laura are the reason she became a hall monitor in the first place, after all.

Laura smiles and goes bounding down the hall. Perry watches her disappear, head tilted ever so slightly in thought. Perry hadn’t realized they had a new student. She seems like a lovely young girl. A great addition to the Silas family.

Perry turns and continues down the hall, absentmindedly looking into every classroom as she passes. It’s her job as hall monitor to keep track of everything, including students in empty classrooms. She knows the other monitors don’t take the job so seriously, but that just means she keeps an extra close eye on things to make up for it.

As she nears the end of the hall, two sharp voices drift out to meet her. An argument. Perry squares her shoulders and marches forward, intent on breaking up whatever little squabble has broken out this time.

“Imagine my surprise when I picked up my schedule this morning and realized that my one and only sister is completing her student teacher requirement at our very own Silas Academy.”

“Our placements are chosen based on a compatibility exam.”

Perry scurries back, pressing herself to the wall behind the door. It can’t be. It was impossible. Carmilla? Talking to Mattie? She’s absolutely positive she’s hallucinating. Mattie can’t be at Silas. That’s absurd!

She creeps forward and peers through the window in the door. Mattie and Carmilla are indeed standing at the front of the classroom. Carmilla has her chest jutted out like she’s ready to fight, her arms crossed, her words laced with teeth. Mattie doesn’t appear to care, her posture relaxed, and her hands clasped in front of her.

“Oh, is that why you didn’t tell me you were coming back?” Carmilla mocks.

Mattie shakes her head, “If mother had found out I told you before it was finalized…”

“Really? You think I’d tell mother?”

“Of course not! But when has that ever stopped her before? Contacting you is a direct violation of my contract with her and my placement here gave her the perfect excuse to check to make sure I was keeping up my half of the bargain. If she’d discovered we’d been in contact that would have given her more reason to reject it and destroy the contract, even as infrequent as it’s been. I made a strategic decision, Carmilla, to benefit all of us. If you want to throw a tantrum that is your prerogative. I, on the other hand, don’t have the luxury.”

“You could have,” Carmilla snaps.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, darling.”

“You were free, Mattie! You made that deal with mother and you went to college and you never had to come back here ever again! But you did. And you shouldn’t have.”

Mattie deflates, her expression softening as she stands and approaches Carmilla.

“I couldn’t very well drop out of my master’s program just to avoid Silas. Besides, this allows us time to see each other without mother necessarily finding out. Her minions here still need to perform their actual jobs, after all. For all I despise of this place, teaching here is an opportunity that could change all of our lives for the better.”

“But that doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous!”

“I can handle a little danger, my dear. And all the more reason too, if it means I’m able to spend time with my favorite little monsters.”

Carmilla huffs, her shoulders dropping in defeat. Mattie smirks and lifts Carmilla’s chin with a long delicate finger.

“Come now,” she murmurs, tucking Carmilla’s hair behind her ear, “Don’t you worry about your big sis. I know we haven’t spoken much in the last two years, but things have changed more than you know.”

Carmilla allows herself to be enveloped in a hug, burying her face in Mattie’s collarbone and wrapping her arms around Mattie’s torso. Mattie runs her fingers through Carmilla’s hair.

“I’m still pissed,” Carmilla growls softly.

“I know,” Mattie replies. Carmilla rolls her eyes and grabs her backpack off the floor.

“Tell William for me, won’t you?” Mattie calls after her.

Carmilla flashes the peace sign and disappears into the hall, leaving Mattie to clean up her things and return to her temporary office.

Perry holds her breath as Carmilla tears past, too absorbed in her own thoughts to even glance in Perry’s direction. Once she’s gone Perry peels herself off of the wall and steps into the doorway.

Mattie doesn’t notice at first, lips pursed and head down as she stuffs handouts and gradebooks back into her briefcase.

Perry feels the air leave her lungs in one shallow breath. She can’t stop herself, her eyes raking over Mattie again and again in a desperate attempt to devour all the little things that had changed in the last three years. Her hair, long and straight. Her face, sharper and wiser. A gold watch on her wrist instead of the leather one. All of it wrapped up in a confidence that lacked teenage clumsiness and ego. A miracle.

Perry takes another step. Mattie looks up and her lips part in surprise, a name at the tip of her tongue. She’d known, of course, that eventually they would meet again. It wasn’t exactly a secret that one of Silas’s straight-A students was repeating a year.

“Can I help you?” Mattie asks, straightening up. Perry blinks, the spell breaking like cold water being splashed in her face.

“I heard an argument. I was just checking… well, I guess it doesn’t really matter. You’re clearly on your way out and I don’t want to impose or anything-”

“I don’t want my return to Silas to be uncomfortable for you,” Mattie interrupts. Perry smooths her hands across her pants and licks her lips.

“That’s very considerate of you.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Mattie turns back to her briefcase, buckling it shut and retrieving her coat from the back of her chair. Perry watches, brow furrowed. She knows she should leave, run for the hills or what have you, but a question is burning at the tip of her tongue.

“Are you okay?”

Mattie considers the question, “Carmilla is upset, but it’s nothing to worry about. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“But… but are you _okay?”_

Mattie looks up at her with calm and measured patience. Perry finds herself unable to look away, unable to move, unable to think of anything else but Mattie, Mattie, Mattie.

“Do you think that is an appropriate question for a student to ask a teacher?” Mattie asks, walking in front of Perry. Perry feels an old wound open in her chest, an anger that spills over the edges of the world. She purses her lips and stands her ground.

“Yes, I’m okay,” Mattie says. She brushes by Perry and stalks to the door. Perry waits until the echo of her steps in the hall has faded away before she lets out a shuddering breath and presses her hands to her heart.

Alright then. Okay. Everything was okay.

On the other side of the building, an office door closes, and stays closed, for several hours.

 

~~~

 

Thanks to her scholarship, Laura’s last class period of the day is actually two hours of clerical work for the main office. The office secretary smiles and twirls her glasses and with a bony finger points to a back staircase with dirty windows and a deadly hand rail.

And Laura, in the newest installment of worst first day ever, finds herself in the basement of the Robespierre building.

The basement is one long room filled with musty boxes and creaking shelves. The sound of rats isn’t so much background noise as it is theme music, and the cobwebs look like they could be home to a small child, let alone a very caffeinated spider. Laura groans. This is going to be just fantastic.

At the sound of her discomfort, two people pop up from behind a table piled high with filing cabinet drawers. The first is a brunette with huge eyes and an excited smile, the second a ginger with a crooked grin and a confident swagger.

“Hello! You must be our dear new friend, Laura Hollis,” the first exclaimed, shuffling around to clasp her hand, “My name is JP. I’m kind of your boss, but only because I’m a senior and I’ve been here longer. This is Lafontaine! They’re with the science department!”

“What’s up, newbie? You ready to get your hands dirty?” Lafontaine asks.

“Uh, yeah, this isn’t exactly what I pictured when they said I’d be an office assistant,” Laura admits.

“Fair. However,” they pull something bulky and terrifying from behind a box, “It is so much cooler than stapling roll sheets for Stella upstairs.”

“Cool is not the word I would use,” Laura says, backing up towards the stairs.

“Oh, don’t be alarmed, newbie. This is just distillation equipment from last century. Mostly used for science, but this school was in fact built before prohibition so perhaps some other kinds of experiments as well,” JP says.

“All the old science equipment is still down here, which is why I get to hang out with you guys,” Lafontaine says slyly.

“Oh. That’s...honestly so much better than I expected.”

JP laughs and picks up a broom, “Yes, Silas does have quite the reputation.”

“Reputation? This place is weird,” Lafontaine says, dumping the equipment in a box before dragging a ladder out from behind more junk.

“I sort of figured that out,” Laura says, sequestering herself in a corner where nothing appears to be moving.

“Trust me, you have seen nothing. The cooks keep live chickens behind the toolshed and they have literally gotten into the girls showers, the library, onto the roof-”

“Don’t forget Principal Trudy’s office!” JP calls. Lafontaine points and nods, eyes wide and fearful.

“It’s like the movie _Birds_ if it was actually _Flightless Birds_ and specifically chickens! And technically there haven’t been any injuries, but there’s still time. It’s only day one of the new year!”

“Laf and the chickens have a history,” JP explains. Laura laughs and grabs the dust pan to assist with the growing pile of ick in the middle of the floor. Okay, so maybe the school isn’t all bad.

“Lafontaine?” A voice floats down the stairs.

“We’re here Per!”

Perry appears at the bottom of the stairs, her arms full of books, “There you are! I thought you would have been in the new lab!”

“Sorry, Per. I totally forgot we were starting clean-up duty today! And, we have a newbie!”

Laura raises her hand in greeting and Perry smiles brightly, “We’ve met!”

“Perry helped me find my chemistry class.”

“Oh, hey! You must have been in the new building! What did you think?” Lafontaine asks.

“It was honestly the nicest lab I’ve ever been in, though I’m not sure that’s going to prevent me from sucking at chemical compounds,” Laura says.

“Nah, you’ve got me now. You’ll be reciting the periodic table in no time!”

“I don’t know. Between that and Ms. Belmonde’s class-”

“Woah woah woah, Belmonde? Mattie Belmonde?” Laf asks, turning to Perry, “Please tell me this is not what I think it is! You didn’t know did you?”

“Lafontaine, it’s alright. She’s just teaching a few history courses. I had no idea until…” Perry pauses, mouth open, her eyes flicking from one thing to the next.

“Until what?”

“I may have bumped into her this morning, but there’s no need to worry! She said she didn’t want this to be uncomfortable and I agreed, so it’s all taken care of.”

Lafontaine stares at Perry in utter disbelief.

“JP?” they ask.

“I’m quite certain I saw a flame thrower just a few moments ago.”

“That will definitely work,” Laf agrees, joining JP in digging out a few medieval torture devices.

“Oh my god,” Laura says.

“Lafontaine!” Perry shrieks.

“She broke your heart, Per! Plus she’s just an all around asshole in general. Are we really going to let it slide? Just say, ‘hey no worries about that one time you nearly destroyed my best friend’s life! We’re all good now!’ Really?” Lafontaine shouts.

“That is exactly what we’re going to do! It’s been three years! I don’t… I don’t want to deal with this all over again,” Perry argues.

Laura watches them in terrified silence, catching JP’s eye along the way. He smiles apologetically.

“Sorry, what’s happening?” Laura asks.

“Mattie- uh, Ms. Belmonde, used to be a student here. She graduated early and Lafontaine and I were both here when she was, and…. well….” Perry trails off.

“She and Perry secretly dated for like a year and the week before graduation Mattie’s mom told her to break it off. So she did. In the girls bathroom before first period with practically the entire school listening outside the door. Only she didn’t even own up to the fact they were together, just told Perry to back off, and that she wasn’t popular and never would be. It was straight out of _Mean Girls_ ,” Laf finishes.

“Wow,” Laura says.

“People still talk about it. Perry’s parents pulled her out of school for a year because she failed all of her finals. I swear if I get my hands on that-”

“Stop! Just, stop. Please. You know that isn’t the whole story. What happened was awful, of course, but revenge will just make it worse!” Perry says.

Lafontaine scowls and sets down the fire extinguisher they’d picked up, “I just hate it.”

“I hate it, too. If it was up to me I’d have her removed immediately, but it’s not. We’ll just have to make the best of it.” Perry takes a deep breath and looks to Laura.

“Now, as far as I know we haven’t asked a single thing about you! What brings you to Silas, dear?”

Laura freezes, her hand tightening around the handle of the broom as the other reaches for the locket at her neck. What is she supposed to say? Should she lie? She stares at the floor, her heart pounding in her chest. She can’t just pretend it didn’t happen, and besides, if these were going to be her friends they’d find out eventually.

“My dad got a job in the city and moved us down here because my mom died in a car accident six months ago and he thought we needed a fresh start.” she explains.

Perry, Laf, and JP share a look.

“We’re so sorry, Laura,” Perry says.

“If there’s anything you need…” JP adds. Laura nods. She’s heard it all before.

“It’s actually a lot easier now that every single thing I see doesn’t remind me of her and the kids at school aren’t talking about it behind my back and my teachers aren’t giving me extended deadlines due to grief or whatever and…. I’m sorry,” she shakes her head, “I totally shouldn’t be telling you all this right after we just met.”

For a long moment, the room is perfectly silent.

“Do you want to have dinner with us? There’s no assigned seating and we always have an extra spot,” Laf offers. Laura smiles despite herself.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot, actually.”

 

~~~

 

Dinner is a long, drawn out process involving screaming children and pie related coin-tosses, Laura discovers. Her new friends show her the ropes to getting just the right scoop of ice cream and tell her everything they know about Silas. The gossip. The teachers. The memes. Laura can’t remember the last time she felt so normal.

She still heads back to her room early, totally exhausted from her crazy first day. Her dad is supposed to call at seven so they can talk about how it went and she really doesn’t want to miss it. They haven’t talked since Friday, which is the longest they’d ever gone without talking, well, ever.

Laura does her homework while she waits. No point in getting behind on her very first day! Even if it means she has to slog through two chapters of chemistry and fill out a worksheet on the schools of literary theory.

At seven, o’clock she checks her phone. No call. Full reception. Huh, weird.

She wonders if she should call him, but decides she should give him at least a few minutes. He’s probably still moving in and getting settled anyway.

He still hasn’t called five minutes later when Laura checks again, and her finger hovers over the call button. Maybe he was expecting her to call. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed the time. Maybe-

Loud, metal-grinding noise snaps her out of her thoughts. Laura falls out of her chair, her phone flying out her hands to skitter under the bed, as she tries to discern exactly where the sound is coming from. Was that supposed to be music? The wall next to her bed appeared to be shaking in time with the bass. So much for good neighbors.

Laura suddenly remembers her phone and shoves her entire body under the bed to retrieve it. By the time she wiggles back out it’s 7:15, and she still has exactly zero missed calls. Her stomach twists into knots. This isn’t happening.

Next door, the music gets louder.

Laura huffs angrily and stalks out into the hallway. She knocks on the door next to her own and waits, arms crossed, for whoever is crazy enough to play punk rock loud enough to reach the international space station.

And of course, Carmilla answers the door.

She’s wearing nothing but a silk robe that exposes her pale stomach and black panties, her hair tied up in a messy bun that frames her face in loose ringlets. She quirks an eyebrow at Laura.

“Uh, can you turn the music down?” Laura asks, tilting her head to emphasize how obvious a request it was.

Carmilla shrugs, “Maybe I broke the stereo. How would you know?”

“Really? Look, I’m waiting for a call from my dad. Can you please just turn it off or something?”

“Wow, a call from daddy dearest. That is not the least bit surprising. The answer’s still no, though. Sorry cupcake.”

Carmilla slams the door shut. Laura stands there, fuming. She doesn’t have time to go down and get the dorm supervisor. Her dad is going to call any second!

“Hey, you need help?”

Laura spins around and comes face to face with, seriously, another ginger? This one is tall, practically dwarfing Laura, and has a soccer team jacket thrown over her shoulder.

“I just need my awful neighbor to turn off her awful music!” Laura yells, half at the new girl standing in front of her, half at the closed door giving her an aneurism.

“I had a feeling,” The girl says. She knocks on the door hard enough to shake the building and waits patiently for it to open.

“I said no!” Carmilla calls.

“Carmilla, stop being an asshole and open this door!”

The door opens almost instantly. Carmilla eyes the girl, her gaze flickering to Laura only once as she leans against the door frame and licks her lips.

“You know you can’t play music this loud, Carmilla,” the girl says.

“What are you going to do, make me turn it down?”

“It would be my pleasure,” the girl says with a grin. Carmilla sighs, her shoulders slouching.

“Fine. But don’t expect any favors from me next time you need something.”

“I will try my very best not to be completely unrealistic.”

“Whatever. I don't have time for this.” Carmilla shuts the door again, and the music goes off a few seconds later.

Laura smiles gratefully and holds out her hand.

“Laura.”

“Danny.”

“So, you and Carmilla. Are you friends or something?” Laura asks.

“Not in so many words. We used to be rivals for the number two spot on the honor roll but we realized we benefit more from teaming up than we do from tearing each other down. We’ve gotten the exact same grades for the last four years in a row.”

Laura narrows her eyes in confusion, “That sounds kinda like friends to me.”

“Yeah, just don’t say that to her face,” Danny teases, “The deal is that I don’t get in her way, she doesn’t get in mine, sometimes I remind her to play by the rules, sometimes she reminds me to take the stick out of my ass. It works.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Laura laughs, “Um, I have to get back to my room, but really, thank you for that.”

“No problem, newbie! Have a good night!”

Danny continues on down the hallway, and Laura, free from distraction, hurries back to her room. It’s nearly eight o’clock and her dad still hasn’t called. Laura hits call, her hands shaking as she holds the phone to her ear and leans up against her desk.

“Hello?”

“Dad!”

“Oh, Laura, I… I got held up at work sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m fine. I just wanted to tell you about my day. It was pretty crazy,” Laura says, running a hand through her hair.

“Actually, I’m still at work. They have me setting up an entirely new system and they need it done by Friday. Would it be okay if I called you during breakfast?”

Laura takes a deep breath, “Yeah, sure. You’ve got this dad.”

“Thanks, sweetie. I’ll talk to you in the morning, I love you.”

“Love you too,” Laura says. The line goes dead. Laura drops onto her bed and pulls her knees to her chest. Outside the sun has set behind the trees and the sky grows dark. Chances are he won’t call at breakfast. He’ll stay up too late and wake up at noon and rush to work all over again. He always thought he could get fewer than eight hours of sleep, but his body never let him.

Laura sniffs and wipes at her eyes. She is not going to cry. She still has homework to do, and boxes to unpack. With renewed energy, Laura jumps to her feet and gets to work. Anything to take her mind of the silence and her phone.

Three hours later her room is spotless, her backpack is packed, and every single box is piled up by the door. Laura sleeps soundly in her new bed, the exhaustion of her first day drowning out any kind of discomfort she could possibly feel.

She dreams of the same thing she always does, her mother laughing and singing along to the radio, her long brown hair twisting in the wind as they drive down Canyon Falls Highway in the dying light of a summer that never really ends.

Over and over and over again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates Friday 12:00 PM PST

The world comes back to her in bits and pieces; stale beer clinging to her tongue, her arm twisted under her stomach numb and unresponsive, a hot, dry fog where her head should be. The loud grind and clash of the construction rumbles in from outside, signaling a new day, and a new headache.

Carmilla groans and rolls onto her back. She’d fallen asleep on the floor, her stereo dismantled on the bed and her assignment for Ruby’s class smeared across the carpet. The rest of the paint lays dried and cracked along her forearm. So much for a masterpiece.

Her phone vibrates violently and falls off the nightstand into the garbage can, where the vibrations begin to echo like the seventh ring of hell. Carmilla tosses her arm out and knocks the can over, her fingers blindly picking the phone from the rubble. She wipes it off on the carpet just in case and balances the phone on her ear.

“Did I miss breakfast?”

“No? Breakfast just started.”

“Well in that case I’m going back to sleep.”

“Uh, no, you’re coming down to the courtyard to give me my money. You owe me for the whiskey and the beer.”

“You shouldn’t have let me leave without paying you.”

“We’re twins, aren’t we? Plus you threatened to rip my nipples off.”

Carmilla groans and throws her arm over her eyes. 

“Fine. I’m on way, but only because I won’t have time at lunch.”

“See you soon, kitty.”

Carmilla throws her phone onto her bed and picks herself up off the floor. Her bones creak as they readjust themselves into a more natural configuration. If past experience didn’t completely discount the notion, Carmilla would happily promise to never fall asleep on the floor again. 

She finds something to wear the same way she finds something to read, with a precision so practiced it is nonchalance in a silky black bow. Black skinny jeans shredded through at her thigh; careless. Black boots; rugged or practical depending on the person. Loose-knit, vaguely see-through top; expensive and edgy no matter who looks. It’s her look, her signature, which she completes with a black beanie to hide her hastily brushed hair, and a jacket to cover the paint streaked down her arm. She’ll wash it off later. Probably. 

Satisfied with her appearance, Carmilla throws her books and her art supplies into her bag, grabs a wad of cash from under her mattress, and rebounds out of her room with her sunglasses between her teeth.

Seize the day or whatever, right?

Will is at their usual table, the only table that hasn’t changed hands in the last six years, with a three course breakfast laid out in front of him like the promise of a good day. Carmilla forces her way through the morning rush and sits down across from him, pulling out the money she owes him without a word.

“Thanks, sis, I knew I could count on you,” Will says.

“Stuff it, pretty boy.” She steals a slice of bacon off his plate and pops it in her mouth. He makes an unimpressed expression and shakes his head. 

“One of these days you’re going to regret stealing my food.”

“What’re you gonna do, poison it? I’m your biggest customer,” Carmilla argues. Will sighs and pushes his plate into the middle of the table.

“Mother called,” he says.

“Fuck.”

“She asked me how my first day had been, mentioned she couldn’t get a hold of you, and then tried to pump me for information.”

“Do you think she tried to call Mattie?”

“I doubt it. Mattie isn’t her kid anymore. The contract made sure of that.”

Carmilla rolls her eyes, “You have no idea what was in that contract.”

Though, unfortunately, neither does she. They’d been fourteen at the time, hardly old enough to grasp the concept of their sister bringing home a contract that severed her ties to their adoptive mother. They probably wouldn’t have understood it, not that they’d been allowed near it anyway. Mattie had asked to speak to mother in her office, and then the screaming had started, and then all of a sudden it had gotten very, very quiet. 

When Mattie walked out she was mechanical. She went straight to her room and packed her things, stuffing dresses and priceless gifts into a duffel bag. Mother had stayed in her office and called people on the phone all night, while Carmilla and Will hung around the door of Mattie’s room anxiously waiting for some kind of resolution.

It never came.

Mattie slipped a new phone number into Carmilla’s hand on her way out the door, promised to email both of them soon, and left without another word.

Carmilla called a little after one am, and as far as she knows Will never did.

She didn’t see the contract until the next day when she was called into Mother’s study to talk about Mattie’s swift departure. It had been on the desk off to the side, half obscured by a budget proposal for the school. It was thick, and Mattie’s name was boldly printed on the front. Mother hadn’t changed their names for some reason, when she adopted them. She said it was so they would always be connected to their families, but seeing that contract on that desk, Carmilla wondered if she didn’t have other motives as well.

It was too late to ask, at that point.

“Mattie told us enough in that email she wrote. She took her trust fund and got the hell out. I mean, she’s our sister and I still love her or whatever, but that was pretty low,” Will says.

“Yeah, well, she had her reasons.”

“Her girlfriend? That blew up in her face. Family is the thing that’s always going to be here for us; not them.” 

Carmilla tries to remind herself that it’s not Will’s fault he’s part sheep, part moron. All he ever does is commit minor felonies. He’s never directly disobeyed Mother, snuck out, dated, or refused to share her worldview 100% of the time. 

He’s never done 100% of the things she and Mattie have done.

Will takes Carmilla’s silence as surrender and pulls his plate back.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you know anything about the new girl.” Will nods to a table behind Carmilla and she turns, unsurprised to find Laura Hollis enthusiastically shoving a bagel into her mouth.

Carmilla honestly hadn’t thought much of Laura at first. She’d been curious for all of five seconds until Laura looked up at her with that look on her face. Eyes wide, brow furrowed, like it was the first time she’d ever seen someone disrespect authority in her life. Carmilla knew then and there that Silas was going to eat the poor thing alive. She was just another naive girl wandering through the world without a single clue how to survive. Why should Carmilla care what happened to her?

Oh, that’s right. Because, as it turns out, Laura is her new neighbor, and whatever problems Laura has with Carmilla, Carmilla is bound to hear about; an unfortunate fact that had turned Laura into a distasteful inevitability instead of a fleeting memory. 

“Oh, I know plenty. Daddy issues, self-righteous, little bit of a temper. Why do you care?” Carmilla asks.

“Just curious. You think she’s single?”

“Seriously? You don’t want to go anywhere near that precious little creampuff. More trouble than she’s worth on a good day and just as obnoxious.”

“Hey, alright, I’ll heed your warning. I’m not stupid, y’know, I can tell when you’re serious,” he laughs.

“Damn right.”

“I still think it’s creepy you know so much about her considering she’s only really existed for the last twenty-four hours though.”

“We’re both in Mattie’s class. It’s not like I’m stalking her.”

“Yeah, sure. You think she has any secrets?”

“The innocent looking ones always do. No one just transfers to Silas. Little miss perfect is probably an escaped felon or a sex maniac.”

“A sex maniac? Really?”

“No, dumbass. Do you seriously believe everything you hear?”

“Now, now, children.”

The twins look up in surprise at Mattie, who had overheard a good chunk of their conversation. Mattie sets a croissant in front of Carmilla and drops into the chair between them, “You two are quite predictable, you know.”

“I blame Willy-boy,” Carmilla says.

“Hey!”

“Moving on,” Mattie says, turning to Will, “It’s been a long time, baby brother.”

“Yeah, I guess it has. Carmilla was just telling me about how she thinks the new girl is a sex maniac,” Will says.

“It was a joke, numbskull.”

Mattie sighs deeply and rolls her eyes, her smile betraying her to her siblings. As annoying as their incessant bickering is, she can’t deny she missed it. 

“What am I to do with you two?” she says, taking Carmilla’s hand and brushing Will’s hair away from his face. Will’s smile falters at her touch, his eyes darkening as he pushes his food around his plate.

“I’ve got to go to class,” he mutters. He collects his things and his plates before disappearing into the throng of departing students.

“Well, I suppose that’s to be expected,” Mattie says, frowning.

“He’ll come around,” Carmilla promises. Mattie smiles and squeezes Carmilla’s hand.

“Go on. I know you have class as well,” she says. Carmilla gets up and grabs her things, touching Mattie’s shoulder as she passes by.

Mattie smiles faintly at the gesture, reaching up to touch the spot where Carmilla’s hand had been.

Time. They just need time.

 

~~~

 

Carmilla’s first class of day two is American Literature and Philosophy, which would be fine if it wasn’t taught by Mrs. Fry, the one and only teacher at Silas who actually, genuinely hates Carmilla’s guts. She can’t remember the exact reasons why, but she thinks it has something to do with the fact that she always does well in the class without actually trying. There’s something to be said for reading classics in her spare time, something that is usually along the lines of “Suck it, Mrs. Fry.”

Carmilla wanders into the class a few minutes early and shops around for a bit before settling for a desk in the very back row. The farther back she is, the less Mrs. Fry will notice she isn’t paying attention, and the fewer asinine questions she’ll be asked. A winning solution for everyone, really.

Her thoughts have nearly reached the stratosphere when a blur darts across her peripheral vision and curls into one of the desks in the second row. Carmilla’s eyes flick over, narrowing as she takes in the long brown hair and familiar stature.

You have  _ got _ to be kidding. 

Carmilla isn’t sure if it’s the universe screwing with her or six years of karma processing all at once, but either way the cookie crumbles, Laura Hollis is indeed sitting four rows ahead and two aisles over. Now William really will think she’s stalking the new girl. 

Laura turns as if she’s looking at the clock on the wall, then very carefully her gaze shifts to Carmilla. They stare at each other for a moment, expressions neutral, before Laura turns back to her open notebook and jots something down. Carmilla frowns. Why do they keep doing this? They don’t even know each other.

Mrs. Fry shuffles in and slams her heavily tabbed edition of  _ Philosophy Through the Ages _ onto her desk, “Alright, everybody pay attention. I have a full lesson planned for today and we still need to go over class rules.”

Carmilla ducks her head and pulls out her pen to doodle inappropriate puns on her desk. 

And so it begins. 

She manages to steer clear of any sort of class participation up until the last five minutes. A record, probably, if she’d ever bothered to keep track. She’s halfway through drawing an anatomically correct vagina next to a joke about portals when she vaguely registers her name being called, looks up, and discovers she’s being stared at. By everyone.

“Uh, yes?” she asks. Mrs. Fry sighs and taps her book.

“We’re discussing the philosophy behind the founding of our great nation, Ms.Karnstein. I asked which philosophers most widely contributed to the philosophy and theology of American society.”

“I guess the most well-known would be John Locke and Isaac Newton, but we could always throw Bacon and Descartes into the mix, too,” Carmilla says.

The teacher sighs and taps the book again, “We’ve already discussed Locke and Newton, Ms. Karnstein, and have now moved on to American scholars.”

A hand at the front of the class shoots up. Carmilla’s eyes narrow, her fingers curling into the face of her desk.

“Yes, Ms. Hollis?”

“Isn’t it Jonathan Edwards and Samuel Johnson?” Laura asks, casting a sly glance over her shoulder. Carmilla growls under her breath. How dare that impish, naive little-

“Yes, Ms. Hollis, that is correct! Perhaps you should consider this a warning, Ms. Karnstein, and pay attention this term.”

Carmilla’s lips curve into a snarl. Of course the new girl would make this class unbearable. What had she been expecting? That the spunky little brat could keep her hands to herself for all of one hour on Tuesdays and Thursdays? 

The bell rings as Mrs. Fry tries to assign the homework. Carmilla tears out of the classroom and down the hall. She hardly notices the other students rushing to avoid her, too focused on all the different ways she could make Laura Hollis regret every decision she had ever made.

“Kitty!”

“Not now, William!” She snaps over her shoulder. Will runs to catch up with her and nearly gets trampled in the process.

“Carmilla, slow down!”

“I have better things to do than listen to whatever useless gossip you just heard.”

“Sis, it’s not gossip. Mom just called and-”

They turn the corner into the foyer just as a gaggle of smartly dressed adults are exiting the conference room next to the main office. Among them is a tall, blonde woman in an expensive suit wearing an equally professional expression. Her hawkish eyes latch onto them immediately. Before either of the twins have the time to even stand up straight, their mother is upon them.

“Carmilla, William, my dears! I was hoping I’d run into you before I went back to the city!”

Carmilla and Will beam brightly at their mother, one pained and one amused. If she notices the difference, she doesn’t acknowledge it, instead taking each of them by the shoulder and pulling them closer. 

“Now I know this... unusual situation we’ve found ourselves has left the two of you a little confused.”

Carmilla fights the urge to roll her eyes, staring at the shiny gold buttons on Mother’s coat until her eyes cross. Her blood is still boiling from that stupid philosophy question and now her mother is talking to her as if she’s five years old. The only one who seems to be confused is William. The rest of them know exactly what’s going on, exactly what this “unusual situation” means; a tighter leash; fewer allowances. 

Gross invasions of privacy.

“We’re fine, mom!” Will assures her. He sounds like a child, happy go lucky and spoiled on sweets and love. It makes Carmilla’s throat tighten and her fists clench. 

On top of it all she can’t get Laura’s smug face out of her head. That innocent little head tilt. Asking like she’s not sure her answer is right, like she isn’t just waiting to screw Carmilla over. Mrs. Fry will no doubt assign her extra credit just for catching Carmilla off guard. Who even cares about Jonathan Edwards and Samuel Johnson? They were just regurgitating the ideas of other philosophers, half-chewed and blindly swallowed.

“Carmilla? What about you? I understand you are in her class this term,” Mother says, her eyes narrowing just enough for Carmilla to notice. 

“It’s fine,” Carmilla says, keeping her gaze on the jacket. 

“Carmilla, what have I told you about looking at people when you’re speaking?”

Carmilla looks up, her jaw locking and her teeth grinding, “Sorry, Mother.”

“Now I can’t honestly believe that your sister’s presence here hasn’t caused you at least a little emotional upheaval. Tell the truth, dear.”

“It’s fine, really,” Carmilla insists, digging her nails into her palms, “It won’t affect my studies. Mattie wouldn’t let that happen.” 

The last word is floating from her mouth just as Mattie comes through the front doors behind her. Carmilla looks away like she’s been slapped. Karma. It was definitely karma.

Mattie falters, her expression darkening. She steps as carefully as she can behind a group of students and slips into the office, where she lingers to watch.

Carmilla curses under her breath.

One of Mother’s eyebrows has risen sharply, “She wouldn’t let it happen? Dear I think you might be confused. Matska has chosen to no longer be a part of this family. She has no reason to give you special treatment. In fact, quite the opposite.”

“That’s not true,” Carmilla replies. 

“It certainly is. I wouldn’t be surprised if she paid to be placed here. Goodness knows what she’s using my money for,” Mother scoffs.

“She’s using it better than you are,” Carmilla mutters. William takes a step back, his hands disappearing into his pockets as he slouches away. 

“Excuse me?” The falsetto concern in Mother’s voice disappears, replaced by a hard, sharp tone. 

“Mattie belongs here,” Carmilla says.

Not a hurricane in the world could have matched the storm breaking across Mother’s face.

“I think I will have a word with your teachers about your attitude. Hopefully you’ll realize how ridiculous you’re being before it seriously harms your future.” With that she sweeps away, rejoining the smartly dressed crowd as they flow out of the building. Carmilla takes a deep breath, her fingers uncurling to run through her hair. She is so screwed.

“What, are you trying to get yourself in trouble?” Will asks, the tendons in his hands bulging as he gestures wildly at her.

“Pardon my caring. I’ll remember to avoid it next time,” Carmilla replies. She pushes past him and heads for the door. What does a girl have to do for five minutes of peace around here?

“Carmilla!”

“I’m late!”

She shoves her way out of the building and into blinding sunlight.

Goddamit. 

Carmilla makes it to the dining hall five minutes after she promised to meet Danny for lunch. She’s not quite sure when their rivalry got this friendly, but if it means she can vent to someone else who understands the intense pressure she’s under to succeed, well, she can’t really complain, can she? At least Danny doesn’t judge her for it.

“Wow, somebody looks riled up,” Danny teases when she walks up. Carmilla flips her off and slouches up to the line. Danny follows, her amusement morphing into curiosity with every second Carmilla remains silent.

“Fine. I’ll bite. What the hell happened to you, Karnstein?” she asks, feeling more than positive she will soon regret every decision that led her to this exact moment.

Carmilla shakes her head slowly. She’d just wanted one year at this school where things weren’t falling into chaos left and right. Between her mother and her siblings that was nearly impossible, what with how infuriating the whole situation was, and yet she wouldn’t have even been so pissed if it hadn’t been for one tiny, obnoxious girl.

“I’m going to rip the new girl’s lungs out with my bare hands,” Carmilla growls.

“Whoa there, how about we back track on the murder, yeah?” Danny says, brow furrowing.

“Get off your high horse, Lawrence, we both know you aren’t some non-violent saint.”

“Can’t argue with that. How did a girl you’ve known for barely-” she checks her watch “-28 hours get you into murder mode between now and the last time I saw you?”

“She continues to exist, doesn’t she?”

“Jesus fuck, you could not be more difficult could you?”

“She answered my question in lit, and now Mrs. Fry is going to hold it over my head for the rest of the term, not to mention she made me look like an idiot.”

“So she showed you up,” Danny translates.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying-”

“Shut up!”

Danny bites her lip, trying not to laugh at the absolute absurdity of the situation. Carmilla continues sulking, shoving food onto her plate with the same force she might use to push someone small and fierce down a flight of stairs. Somehow they make it to a table along the wall without a trail of bodies in their wake, which Danny considers a succes.

Carmilla thinks it’s just a damn shame.

She picks at her food, pushing peas and carrots into the corner and stabbing at the ridiculously fancy pasta with a similarly fancy fork. God, even the food is pretentious. 

“So what are you going to do about it?” Danny asks.

“What can I do about it? It’s not like I can magically transfer classes or ask to switch rooms. If mother found out she’d pull one of her stunts and make everyone that much more miserable.”

“So you aren’t going to use your amazingly powerful mother, who is on every committee this academy has and half the faculty’s speed-dial, to do something as small as get your schedule changed?”

“I don’t need her to take care of me. Besides, if I change my schedule I can’t take Ruby’s class. Surprisingly enough I actually do my research when it’s relevant to my interests, few and far between as they may be,” Carmilla shoots back. 

Danny rolls her eyes, “You say as you maintain a grade point average of 3.98.”

“To keep my mother from sending me somewhere even worse than this hellhole? It’s almost like my interests include living a life free of military school, or worse,” she wrinkles her nose, “Public.”

“Look, I’m just saying…”

“That you have no business making suggestions on my personal life? Are you confused about what this,” Carmilla gestures between them, “Is? Because I would be happy to clarify just how much I don’t need your opinion.”

“Oh fuck you, Karnstein.”

Carmilla rolls her eyes and gathers her things, “Good talk, Xena. Let’s hope we don’t run into each other for at least a week.”

She blindly spins in the direction of the exit and gets no farther than half a step before she’s colliding with someone. Entrees and a ludicrous number of desserts go flying into the air, the foreign body falling clumsily to the ground. Carmilla catches herself on a nearby table, pasta and chocolate dripping down her shirt. She looks up, eyes blazing, and nearly commits a crime of passion.

Laura, sprawled on the floor and covered in various bright stains, stares up at her in horror. Lafontaine and Perry, along with the kid who had been inducted into the honorary ginger club, stand in a line behind her equally as startled.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I totally didn’t see you, I promise-” 

Carmilla drops her plate, hands bunching once again into fists, “You. Of course it’s you. Who else would be idiotic enough to run into someone in broad fucking daylight.”

Laura’s eyes narrow as she scrambles to her feet with a moderate amount of assistance from Laf and Perry, “Hey, I said I was sorry. And for your information, you’re the one who turned around without looking!”

“Oh, so that automatically exempts you from the laws of getting out of the goddamn way? You are a  _ nuisance _ . Silas doesn’t need you running around with your petty little games anymore than we need radioactive wolves.”

“I’m a nuisance? What about you? All you do is make a scene and, and, act like an asshole!” Laura takes a step forward, her hands flying as she talks.

Perry grimaces and looks at Laf, who shrugs. Laura hadn’t mentioned anything about Carmilla.

“Wow, cupcake, how fucking original,” Carmilla snaps, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Danny’s eyes widen and she stands up from the table, her hand landing on Carmilla’s shoulder. Carmilla shakes her off.

“Excuse me? Have you looked in a mirror lately? Hot Topic would like to thank you for buying their entire 2010 line by the way.”

The six of them are so caught up in the fight that no one sees Mattie enter the dining hall across the room. She spots them almost immediately, rolling her eyes when she sees Carmilla in the middle of yet another mess.

“Oh, you are going to regret coming to Silas sooner rather than later,” Carmilla hisses. 

“Really? Are you gonna make me?” Laura scrunches up her face, her little shoulders coming up around her ears. Alarmed by the sight of a tightly-coiled friend, Perry steps forward.

“Okay, maybe we should all just take a step back and breathe…”

“Or not,” Carmilla growls.

“We’ve already come this far, haven’t we?” Laura replies.

Carmilla lunges forward and Laura moves to meet her halfway. Before Carmilla can gouge Laura’s eyes out, something wraps around her waist and lifts her off the ground. Laura is similarly subdued, the gingers pulling her back by the shoulders.

“Okay, let’s go,” Danny says, hefting Carmilla onto her hip. Carmilla wiggles out of Danny’s grip only to be held back by another imposing figure, Mattie stepping between her and Laura with an icy look.

“What is the meaning of this?” she barks. Everyone shrinks back as much as they can without admitting defeat entirely. Mattie sighs and presses her hand to Carmilla’s chest.

"Get out of here, dear. Walk around the block or something.

Carmilla growls and stomps away, wiping at the sludge on her shirt with a napkin she plucks from an unsuspecting freshman. Danny decides against going after her, gracefully exiting the fray with a nod to her classmates and a light hand on Mattie’s shoulder. Mattie in turn looks to Laura, her face reverting to her natural expression of superiority.

“Do you need any help, Ms. Hollis?”

Laura winces as Perry’s fingernails dig into her shoulder, glancing at the barely contained fury on Lafontaine’s face, “No thanks. I think we can manage.”

“We’ll be fine,” Laf says. 

“It’s just a little food,” Perry adds, her voice high and wavering.

Laura shrugs helplessly and turns to pick up the mess on the floor. Laf glares at Mattie a moment longer before joining Laura. Left with only one option, Mattie dares to look at Perry. Perry shakes her head slightly, her frown deepening. Before Mattie can even think of a response, Perry is turning to Laura and briskly reciting the ten steps to stain prevention.

Mattie nods and walks away, feeling somehow, down in her gut, unfinished.

“What is with Ms. Belmonde and Carmilla anyway? Were they friends or something when she went here?”

“They’re sisters,” Perry says. 

“They’re  _ what _ ?”

“Of all the people you had to start a feud with, newbie,” Laf mutters.

Laura groans. 

Crap.

 

~~~

 

Carmilla gets as far as the center of the quad before she stops to wonder exactly where she’s going. She turns slowly, taking in Hawthorne hall with its pint-sized students and the other assorted buildings visible to her at short-range. She remembers how huge and gorgeous Silas had looked on her first day. Shortly after, the school had stopped repairing the buildings in favor of building the new campus, just visible beyond the library. 

Carmilla watched the beautiful old architecture waste away year after year like a child might watch a favored pet. She knew how the buildings felt, like they were just existing without direction or purpose. 

A soft hand on her shoulder alerts her to her sister’s presence. Carmilla looks up at her and sighs wholeheartedly. What had she ever done to end up in a place like this?

“You’re starting fights in the cafeteria these days,” Mattie says, “Not to mention you had some choice words for our mother earlier.”

“You haven’t been around much the last two years. Things change,” Carmilla mumbles.

“I do wish things could have been different, but I didn’t exactly have much control over how often I could visit.”

“Clearly. Just like you can’t control the fact that you’re back.”

“Carmilla…”

“Don’t worry, I’m not upset with you,” she says, “Today has just been an absolute disaster.”

“Because of Mother?”

“Because of everything!” Carmilla frowns and kicks at the gravel angrily, “I just want five seconds to myself without some imbecile ruining everything.”

“Then find it! But I expect more from you than fights and antagonizing words. You’re still trapped in this school, and at mother’s mercy! Foolishly spouting off your innermost thoughts isn’t going to get you out of here any faster! Now I know that sounds harsh, but it’s the truth.”

“Y’know, I thought you of all people would understand what this is like,” Carmilla says.

“I do understand. I survived by doing what mother asked of me until I didn’t have to anymore. I got myself out with no strings attached, my inheritance, everything I wanted from her. That’s what is at stake for you, Carmilla,” Mattie says. She’d tried, honestly, to be gentle about it. It’s not like Mattie delights in telling her sister to suck it up until things get better or anything of that nature, oh no, she much prefers when they can pretend life is an endless adventure. Eventually though, Carmilla would need to hear the truth, and Mattie knew the only person Carmilla would even consider listening to was her. 

“Maybe I’m sick of surviving,” Carmilla says. She ducks her head and walks away, heading into the trees seemingly without direction. Mattie sighs and crosses her arms. Alright then. She’ll just have to wait it out. One day soon Carmilla will have no choice but to take her advice. 

Carmilla doesn’t exactly share Mattie’s confidence in the matter. It’s not like she isn’t trying to follow the rules. She does well in her classes, doesn’t she? She comes home for the holidays and smiles for the family photos, everything she could possibly do to fulfill her mother’s wishes.

But in the end it isn’t enough. She isn’t the person her mother wants her to be. She doesn’t care about business or taking over Mother’s company, and she never will. She hardly cares about anything anymore to be honest. It all seems so pointless.

Beautiful, at least. Pointless, but beautiful.

 

~~~

 

Headmaster Trudy had always loved the layout of the Robespierre building. Her office, which dwarfs any other office by a good twelve feet, overlooks the quad from a low enough vantage point so as not to be suspicious, but also give her access to many of her students’ less clandestine meetings.

Like those between teachers and students, for instance. 

“Ms. Dean? Yes, I have an update. I’ve just seen Mattie and Carmilla speaking out on the quad. Carmilla seemed upset.”

She pauses to listen to the dreadfully dry voice on the other end of the line, peering through the blinds concealing her form from the students outside.

“Yes, Ms. Dean, I agree that it is a good sign. Hopefully Carmilla will come to the same conclusion we did in our meeting last week.”

She walks away from the window, phone still pressed to her ear, and examines the worn photo in a silver frame on her desk.

“Well, I’m sure we can think of something if it comes to that…”

 

~~~

 

Despite everyone’s assumptions, Carmilla does in fact have a destination in mind when she walks aimlessly into the woods; a little shack off to the side of campus, just down the old road from the lake and hidden behind a stand of old oak trees. She’d discovered it after Mattie left, when she no longer had any reason to socialize beyond Will and her occasional study buddy. The shack is falling apart, but the roof only leaks once in awhile and the electricity is still wired in. A space heater, a desk, and a set of paints are all she needs. 

She’s pleasantly, though perhaps not entirely, surprised to find all three still there when she shoves her way through the broken door. She hadn’t had time to return yet, and still doesn’t, technically. Her next class starts in half an hour, but she figures she could be late. 

There’s also a chicken, perched on her little table with all the grace of a peacock. Carmilla rolls her eyes. Of course Socrates had found her way into the shack. 

She strips out of her food-encrusted clothes, bra included thanks to a particularly persistent orange substance, and digs around for a paint shirt she knows she left in the little cabinet against the wall. It covers just enough to be decent, the soft, worn-out fabric swishing around her thighs as she gathers her paints and a dusty canvas onto the little table in the center of the room. The chicken squawks and flutters to the ground in a huff.

“Stuff it, Socrates.”

She sits down and rests her chin against her hand, her brush tapping the canvas as she considers her options. Nothing immediately comes to mind. The landscape is dreary and her head aches from last night, not to mention the frustration and anger still simmering in her veins. What is inspiration meant to be, anyway? Something pretty? Something profound?

She doesn’t really have a clue anymore.

Carmilla glances down at her arm, where the swirls and streaks of paint from last night cling to her skin. Some of it has rubbed away in splotches or lines. Carmilla flexes and the paint cracks, her skin showing through in silvery pink threads.Without thinking, she dips her brush in her paint and fills in the spots, the cracks, every imperfection that she can find. The paint is cold against her skin, but she hardly notices. Instead, she lets the world drift away until nothing is left but her art and herself.

Her breathing evens out with every brush stroke; her muscles unwinding with every touch. There is silence and reverence and calm and nothing to ruin it. Every crack and smudge receives equal attention, each blemish in the paint soothed by her touch. By the time she finishes, her arm covered in wet paint, she feels like herself again.

She inspects her arm one last time, retouching spots that are drying too fast or places she’d moved too slow, and then rolls her arm firmly over the canvas. A near perfect copy of the mess on her arm remains on the stark white surface, streaks of blue and orange mixing with reds and pinks. She’d never cared for modern art much, and yet something about it speaks to her. The chaos, perhaps?

She shrugs to herself and tosses it on the counter. 

She'll figure it out when she's not forty-five minutes late and exhausted.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates Friday 12:00 PM PST

Will prides himself on exactly two things: fantastic hair, and a strange, innate ability to hide in plain sight. The first is just a bonus, but the second comes in handy. He can blend into any situation. He’d once sold some kid downtown a few ounces of weed and then watched as the kid got arrested a few feet away. No one had even looked in his direction

It was what made him such a good dealer on campus.

Carmilla is, of course, his best customer. Somehow she always knows what he has on him, and because of their mother she always has the money to pay him, too. Sure, she doesn’t buy as much as some kids, but she’d always been more than loyal, and steady income is hard to come by. Plus, she’s his sister. That counts for something, right?

Thanks to her continued patronage, Will finds himself lounging against the outer wall of the East Dormitory at least twice a week. It’s not a bad gig, to be honest. He waits for her to get out of class and makes a few deals in the meantime. Most people know to find him there, and those who don’t are the ones who shouldn’t.

He’s watching a pair of girls from his calculus class when a particularly familiar jersey comes around the corner. Silas’s colors, red and yellow, are stupidly bright against the dreary old buildings and surrounding forest, and on a tall guy like Kirsch they’re even harder to miss. Will straightens up, shedding his invisibility cloak, and lifts his chin in greeting.

When he sees Will, Kirsch lights up. He bounds over and flops against the wall, his soccer bag bouncing on his hip. 

“Hey man, what are you doing over here?” Kirsch asks.

“Waiting for my sister? Like I always do?”

“Oh right! Because it’s Friday!”

Will snorts and shakes his head. He still can’t figure out how they became friends. Will doesn’t  _ do _ friends. Maybe that says something about him as a person but what does he care? Most people are small; small skills, small dreams, small lives. It’s boring. He’d rather mingle at one of mother’s parties with the kind of people who run the world. Once you’ve witnessed that kind of power, nothing really compares. 

Which had been totally one hundred percent true until he met Kirsch. They’d sat next to each other at soccer tryouts freshman year, and that was it. They did everything together. There was something about Kirsch that Will just couldn’t put his finger on, something that he still hasn’t figured out. Sure, he lacks a little in the brains department, but who cares? He puts his heart into everything he does without a single moment of hesitation. Will has to admit, shit like that takes some serious guts.

“Where are you off to? We don’t have practice today, do we?” Will asks, gesturing at Kirsch’s jersey.

“Nah, I just thought I’d get in a few practice hours since the rain stopped. Hey! You could meet me over there after you’re done here!” 

“I’ve got a bunch of homework, bro. Plus Sis and I need to coordinate for this weird dinner thing our mom’s having tomorrow. Might take a while.”

“Pfft yeah, no problem obviously! You’re missing out though. You, me, an empty field. Those are all the ingredients we need for the practice game of a lifetime,” Kirsch teases. 

Will grins, “Come on, get out of here. I don’t need to listen to this!”

“No way! Bro code clearly dictates that no bro will ever be left behind,” Kirsch says.

“Kitty will be here any second,” Will scoffs.

“So I’ll keep you company until then!”

“Sometimes you amaze me buddy,” Will says.

“Like in a good way?”

“Yes in a good way.” 

Kirsch beams and mirrors Will’s position on the wall. Whatever subtlety Will had possessed before is impossible to keep up with Kirsch standing next to him. He sighs in defeat. Oh, well.

“So how’s the prep for the party coming?” Kirsch asks.

The homecoming party, historically speaking, always takes place after the weird school-sanctioned dance and dinner meant to celebrate the beginning of the term. Unlike the dance, the party is probably the least sanctioned thing that happens all year, complete with booze and whatever other wild shit people can come up with. Due to his reputation, the responsibility of setting the whole thing up falls to Will, which, let’s be honest, he’s not complaining about. 

“It’s going good. Went out there yesterday to make sure the old house is still standing. We might need to wash some of the stains off the wall from the summer special but otherwise we are ready to go,” Will says. 

“I’m thinking of taking Sarah, y’know, that girl from geography? She’s really smart and she likes dogs!”

Will wrinkles his nose, “You could do better.”

“Dude, you say that every time I ask a girl out,” Kirsch laughs.

“Not every time,” Will says, finding himself suddenly much more interested in staring out across the quad.

“You sure? It seems like it’s every time.”

“I liked Mary didn’t I?”

“Oh yeah…”

“Told ya it wasn’t every time.”

Kirsch’s smile falters, his arms crossing over his chest, “I mean, you’re just being a good bro, watching out for me.”

“Exactly, dude,” Will agrees, relaxing slightly.

“Oh look! William has a friend!” A sarcastic voice says. Will jumps and Carmilla smirks at him. She’d come from the other side of campus due to a spontaneous art class field trip instead of her usual direction, giving her the perfect opportunity to listen in on whatever Will and Kirsch were discussing.

“Yep. Amazing. It’s almost like he’s been my friend for years,” Will responds.

“And yet he’s not invited to my room.”

“Hey, no worries, Ki- Carmilla,” Kirsch stutters, “I was just staying til you got here. I’ve got, like, stuff.” He gestures vaguely behind him, backing up slowly.

“Hm, well then,” Carmilla purrs. 

“I’ll see you later, bro,” Kirsch says. He high-tails it as fast as he can towards the old rec center, disappearing into the crowd of students heading back from class. Carmilla turns to Will and smirks.

“Looks like your friend is still scared of me,” she teases.

“Well, yeah, you broke a bottle over Damian Valentine’s head in the middle of a team party less than three months ago. And then threatened to make everyone eat it.”

“And in the end I got my bracelet back from that neanderthal Tobias, who had so graciously removed it from my dresser without permission.”

“Tobias is a tool, yeah, but your little display of rage sort of cost you the trust of the entire team.”

“Good. Maybe now they’ll stop hitting on me,” Carmilla deadpans. She jerks her head towards the doors and Will follows her into the building. 

“What? You don’t appreciate the near constant validation of your ego?” Will asks as they climb the stairs.

“Not from the brainless personifications of beef-jerky you consider team-mates,” Carmilla mutters.

“Oh right… because you’d rather all your compliments come from girls in short skirts and converse.”

“It’s almost like I’m a raging homosexual,” Carmilla says, rolling her eyes. 

“Y’know I honestly don’t know how you do it. They swoon over you like you’re some kind of celebrity. Have you seen them? Oh, Carmilla! Please, won’t you take me to prom?!” Will mocks, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping his hands in front of his chest.

“God, you are the most pretentious little…”

“Oh Carmilla, you’re just so hot, my shirt flew right off!”

“William I swear if you don’t stop-”

“Virginity? What virginity? Don’t you know  _ Carmilla goes here _ ?”

Carmilla is about to reply when someone darts down the stairs past them with her head down. Carmilla barely bites back a groan and smacks Will across the chest. He laughs and looks over the banister at the figure rounding on the next set of stairs.

“Was that-” 

“The obnoxious child that lives next to me? Yep, that’s Laura,” Carmilla says.

“She lives next to you?” Will asks, “Woah there, Kitty. You never told me you two were neighbors. How’s that turning out for ya?”

“About as well as it sounds, obviously.”

“Wooow, do you have a new rival?”

Carmilla scoffs as they reach the top of the stairs, “Of course not. Even if she did as well in her classes, she’s still just a naïve small town girl that understands nothing.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a yes to me,”

“Do you ever shut up?” Carmilla asks as she turns the key in her door. Will shrugs and steps into her room, picking a place to sit on the couch that isn’t entirely covered with old clothes or stolen plates. 

“Y’know, the homecoming bash is next week. You could always come and blow off a little steam.”

“Those parties are disgusting,” Carmilla sneers, her lip curling almost as if someone had just handed her a red solo cup of weak beer and a tiny hotdog wrapped in half-baked dough. 

“So? It’s a good way to get away from this campus and back to the real world. Despite the fact the party house is technically on campus.”

“Being surrounded by teenagers who reek of alcohol and fail miserably at keeping their clothes on is not my idea of a magical night, William.”

“Aw, that’s precious. And yet it’s your only option if you want any kind of relief for the three day weekend. Come on, just come to the party like a normal person and take some hot girl home. It’s not like you have to stay longer than it takes you to catch one,” Will says. Carmilla shakes her head. Like girls are just possessions, things you go shopping for. No wonder he comes off as sleazy.

“I’ll consider it,” she says, “In the meantime, let’s talk about why you’re really here.”

“Of course,” Will agrees. He listens happily as she lists the things she wants him to smuggle on campus, his smirk only growing as she continues. Carmilla, broody as she is, only considers things she’s more likely to do than not, and once she starts considering them the scales are tipped heavily in their favor.

He’s already won.

 

~~~

 

“I just don’t get why she has to be such a terrible person all the time for no reason,” Laura whines. 

JP and Laf tilt their heads at identical angles and shrug in unison. The three of them are trapped in a maze of boxes filled with paperwork older than all of them combined and multiplied and... other complicated math stuff. According to school regulations, each box is to be sorted through, divided into subcategories, and refiled in the new system, which requires scanning, naming, and organizing the files all over again. It’s surprisingly light work when the rest of the time a person might have to, hypothetically, put up with a neighbor the likes of which hell has never seen, for example.

Not that Laura is in any way, shape, or form letting Carmilla get to her. Oh, no. Carmilla is clear down at the bottom of her list of priorities, right next to lit homework and vegetables. 

“She draws in history class, which isn’t usually annoying, but somehow manages to incorporate every muscle in her body into the process so she’s constantly throwing her arm in my face; she answers every single question in lit and talks over anyone who gets picked instead of her; she plays music at 2 am loud enough to be heard over a NASA launch, and every time I see her she makes this face like somehow I’m the one who is ruining this school for everyone,” Laura continues, dumping a particularly full box onto the metal table they’d pulled to the front of the room. She rifles through the mess, throwing out files she’s looking for and shoving the rest to the side. 

“You could always just sit in a different spot in history,” JP reminds her.

“Yeah, and I don’t know about you but answering every question in class sounds like she’s doing you a huge favor,” Laf adds. 

“Not when she’s doing it to annoy me on purpose,” Laura grumbles, an especially offensive file crumpling in her fist, “At least someone reported her for the music.”

JP frowns as he leafs through a stack of yellowed and stained pages, his eye twitching at the haphazard organizing going on in front of him, “Why didn’t you report her? The school enforces quiet hours, doesn’t it?”

“That’s one of the only things they do enforce,” Laf says pointedly, eyeing Laura sideways over an open lab report from the 60’s. 

“Reporting her would be cheating,” Laura explains as she heaves another box onto the desk, “If I’m going to win this stupid little game she’s playing I have to do it without adult supervision. Otherwise she’ll just think I’m some teacher’s pet that can’t take care of things myself.”

Laf raises an eyebrow clean off their forehead and crosses their arms, “You loaned Mr. Lyman your special edition  _ Doctor Who _ DVD’s. Trust me, she already thinks you’re a teacher’s pet.”

“He said he liked the show!”

“I think Laf’s point is, if I may, that you’re going to an awful lot of work to win a battle that doesn’t necessarily need to be won.”

“Of course I need to win! She looks at me like I’m some kind of disgrace, like I can’t handle real life or this creepy, isolated place,” Laura snaps, dumping the full box directly onto the contents of the previous one. Half of the files cascade onto the floor, the others forming a precarious mountain on the table top.

“Oookay, newbie, let’s just take a deep breath and maybe come to terms with the fact that the paperwork is not the evil classmate who pulled your pigtails and spit in your milk,” Laf says, pulling Laura gently from the table.

“She just makes me so… so...” Laura scrunches her nose and waves her arms wildly, “Y’know!”

“Mad. The word you’re looking for is mad,” they reply firmly.

“Perhaps it would be best if you blew off a little steam,” JP suggests, a small smile directed in Laura’s direction.

“Yeah, that’d be fantastic, but unfortunately we’re all stuck out here in the woods with nothing to do except sit in our dorm rooms and stare at the walls.”

Laf snaps their fingers, “Which, though generally true, happens to be very much incorrect this week. Friday is homecoming and let me tell you it is always a blast.”

“Ah, yes, the regularly scheduled symphony of explosions!” JP cheers.

“Uh, the what?” Laura asks.

“Every year there’s this dinner-dance combo to celebrate homecoming, which in and of itself is a pretty useless concept, but what isn’t widely televised is the after-party,” Laf explains, their eyes lighting up at the very memory, “Super fun, super wild, and I’ve been the unofficial fireworks technician for the last three years. JP always comes as my assistant and we could TOTALLY take you with us.”

Laura looks incredulously between her two friends. A wild party? Here? If anyone else had told her that she wouldn’t have believed them. 

“You’re telling me that every year some random group of students gets together and throws a huge party out in the middle of nowhere without the faculty finding out.”

“Like clockwork,” Laf confirms, “There’s this house on the edge of the lake that’s been in one of the legacy’s families for years. It’s off campus and far enough away that the faculty don’t hear anything. Even if they did, since upperclassmen technically have permission to leave school grounds, there’s not much they can do about it. No one wants to start a scandal by calling the police on a bunch of rich kids.”

Laura frowns. That does not sound like the kind of thing she should be getting herself involved in, what with the whole underage, brand new student, definitely on a scholarship thing she has going on. On the other hand, it does sound like an interesting change of pace. She’d never been to a house party in her hometown. No one ever invited her. This could be just the thing she needs to really start over and put all of that ick behind her.

“So if I wanted to go with you how would it work?” Laura asks, her hands unclenching ever so slightly. 

“We’d duck out of the dance at about eight and hike down to the house. No one will care you’re there, probably,” Laf says.

“I don’t have to be invited or anything?” 

“I mean, Will is going to be too smashed to care that you’re chilling with us and besides, if I say I need you there’s nothing they can really do about it. The fireworks are like, basically the reason half the students even go.” Laf shrugs and looks to JP who nods in agreement.

“Wait. Will? As in Carmilla’s brother? He’s the one in charge of the party? Why would I go to Will’s party to get away from Carmilla? Won’t she be there?” Laura looks frantically between them, hoping that this isn’t the Will she’s seen walking around campus at Carmilla’s side. It’s a common name, right? Right?

“Uh, yeah, sort of forgot about that… but good news, she doesn’t really go to the parties so chances are she won’t even be there. Besides, it’s huge.”

“I can confirm that the likelihood of bumping into Carmilla is nearly zero. She only attended one last year, and that was the end of the year bash,” JP cuts in. 

Laura exhales slowly. She likes those odds. Those odds are comforting and not at all what she thought they’d be. 

There’s just one thing.

“Ok, so, I’ll go to the party, but can I get one more thing off my chest before we get back to work?” she pleads with them.

“Uh, yeah, go for it newbie.”

“Will is the creepiest guy I’ve ever met, I mean, it’s like he just oozes creeper vibes,” Laura blurts out.

Laf nods violently as JP stares at Laura with wide, understanding eyes.

“We hate that guy,” they say in unison.

“Everyone is always getting him and JP mixed up, too!” Laf adds.

“We don’t even look alike!” JP exclaims.

Before Laura can decide whether to laugh or commiserate along with them, dainty footsteps are hurrying down the stairs above and behind them. Perry, still in her hall monitor outfit, which isn’t actually a school sanctioned outfit, but the only one Perry will wear while hall monitoring anyway, appears on the bottom step.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I see the organizing is going well,” she says, beaming and digging around in her bag to produce snacks of various bright colors. 

“Hey, Per! Did you get off early?” Laf asks, darting over to inspect the goodies and give her a welcoming squeeze.

“Of course not, dear! Didn't you hear the bell ring? The period ended five minutes ago!”

Laura’s eyes go wide and she bolts to collect her things from the corner, “I’m supposed to be interviewing the janitors for the school newspaper!” It’s the one elective class she’d gotten this term, and she isn’t about to screw up her first article because she spent too long ranting about Carmilla in the school basement. 

“Oh, I’ll come with you! I know a very fine shortcut through the garden,” JP says. 

“Just watch out for the chickens,” Laf calls after them. They’re already long gone, particles of dust sprinkling the air where their footsteps shake the floorboards above. Perry scrunches up her nose and presses closer to Lafontaine.

“How can you stand to work in this dreary old place. It is filthy down here,” she mutters.

“Eh, the dirt is worth it. We found like a million term papers today. I figure I can take a few of the interesting ones and read them without anybody noticing,” Laf says, bouncing over to collect their own things. 

Perry shakes her head and links their arms together as the ascend to the office upstairs. The staff are already down the hall at the weekly staff meeting, the school void of almost all the students. Without anyone else around, their footsteps echo through the classrooms and corridors, Laf’s voice ricocheting through the air as they talk animatedly about all the weird and grotesque things they’d discovered lately in the basement.

Perry smiles. If it wasn’t for Laf, well, she doesn’t know where she’d be. They’d been waiting for her the day she came home from Paris, all her favorite American candies and desserts stuffed into a threadbare backpack. Then, for the first time, they’d been in the same grade together, what with her repeating freshman year, and they’d only grown closer in the interim. 

Closer than they had been in the lower grades when Perry was the older girl who watched out for Laf on the playground every day, and Laf was the silly genius who always knew how to get Perry out of her head. They’d done everything together before her parents moved the family to France, and they’d picked up right where they left off when she came back, with a million trans-continental emails in between, minus a few dark months she doesn’t quite want to think about. Besides, all of that is over now, they’re together again, and nothing can ever stop them from being best friends ever again.

“Oh, and we’re taking Laura to the party this year. We think it will help her unwind from the whole Carmilla thing,” Laf says as they cross the quad to the dorms.

“Poor thing. I do hope they get that resolved soon. Though I don’t know if your method of relaxation is really the most advisable,” Perry replies. She’d always hated the parties. They were ill advised and very very unsanitary. Not to mention teenagers setting off homemade fireworks in the dead of night while participating in underaged drinking always seemed more dangerous than entirely called for.

“Come on, Per. Getting a little wild is good every once in awhile. She nearly imploded all over the paperwork today!”

“Well, if you’re sure then I suppose it can’t hurt. Just promise me you’ll all be careful and to call me if anyone needs to be driven to the emergency room.”

Laf squeezes her arm, “Don’t worry, Per. No one’s ever been hurt before and this year will not be the first, okay? We totally have this.”

Perry shakes her head fondly, “Yes, yes, I know.”

Laf tilts their head to take a good look at their friend. She seems a little tired, and a little bit frazzled. Sure, that isn’t too out of the ordinary, but it is only the second week of classes, and she has always been really good at pretending everything's okay, even when they were little. With Mattie back and Laura constantly spouting off tangents about Carmilla, it seems plausible that things aren’t exactly going so hot. Only Perry hasn’t said anything, and Laf knows she expressed every interest in never bringing it up again.

Decisions, decisions.

“So, I know you didn’t mention anything exactly… contradictory, but.. you good? Everything cool in Perryland?” they ask. Perry purses her lips, her walk becoming reserved and formal. 

“I’ll admit things were… difficult for a few days, but I’ve really grown used to it in the last week or so. It’s not ideal, no, but she’s kept her word and stayed away from us. I have to believe that counts for something,” Perry murmurs. 

“I’m here, y’know, if you need to talk some more,” Laf says, hardly missing the way Perry immediately brings up Mattie, like nothing else in the world might be bothering her. 

“I know, dear. I never doubt that,” she replies, “And if I thought there was anything to discuss, I’d tell you right away, but nothing has really changed. It’s almost as if she isn’t even here. It’s not exactly comfortable, but I think for now it’s the best outcome we could have hoped for.”

“Ok,” Laf says, linking their arm more closely with Perry’s. 

Perry pats their hand softly as the two of them disappear into the dorm to drop their things and prepare for dinner. No need to worry, she thinks, I have everything I need to weather this storm.

The ache in her heart means nothing.

 

~~

 

Laura manages to end her day on a high note. Her interview goes so well that she manages to write the entire article in the library before heading back to the dorms. Laura figures it gives her a head start on her final project, a magazine spread on a topic of her choice, but that’s as far as she gets. Her homework is still piling up on her desk. Her dad hasn’t called in a day or two. Carmilla is still her neighbor. 

Even with one success under her belt, everything else kinda sucks.

For some reason she’s starving, probably because now that she thinks about it she can’t remember having lunch, and she bypasses the dorms in favor of the dining hall without so much as dropping her books off. The sun is already partially hidden behind the trees, and even though it isn’t dark yet, the world is looking dimmer. An early dinner just gives her more time for homework later, and less time walking across the creepy campus in the dark by herself. The closest thing to a win-win situation she’s seen in months. 

She’s lost in thought, climbing the steps to the big, bright doors when a hand lands on her shoulder. She jumps, swinging around with a million different defense techniques springing to mind, and finds Danny catching her breath on the step below.

“Jeez, Hollis, I’ve been calling your name for like ten yards!” Danny laughs.

“Sorry, I guess I’m a little out of it,” Laura says.

“Hey, you’re fine. I just saw you walking alone and thought I’d see if you wanted company. I’ve got practice later so early dinner is the only way I’ll get anything at all,” Danny explains.

“Yeah, I mean, it wouldn’t be weird would it?” Laura asks. 

“Why would it be weird?”

“I just.. I’ve seen you eating with Carmilla before and you and I have never really hung out before and it feels kinda like it could be weird?”

“Hah, nah, Carmilla doesn’t care. If anything she’ll just give me shit for it, not you. Congrats on driving her crazy by the way. We should start a club or something,” Danny says, grinning.

“Ugh, it’s not funny! She’s made it her personal mission to ruin my life and all hope of getting into a good college. You wouldn’t happen to have, oh I don’t know, an off button?”

The desperation in her voice must be growing because Danny straightens up, a bittersweet smile on her lips and a knowing glint in her eye.

“If I did I would have used it years ago, I promise. She’s just… really grumpy most of the time. If you stay out of her way it could convince her to back off. You’re not exactly making things easier for her either.”

“Why should I? She can’t just walk around like she owns this place. The rules apply to everyone, even her,” Laura grumbles.

“Wow, you really are into this, aren’t you?”

“I can’t just let her win! She’d be smug for the rest of forever and I don’t think I could live seeing that look on her face every day.”

Danny laughs and nudges Laura with her elbow.

“Why don’t I give you some tips and tricks I used back before we had our truce. I think some of them might come in handy.”

“Really, you’d do that?” Laura squeaks. 

Danny shrugs, “Why the hell not. Carmilla can be a real pain and no one deserves her actual organized attack efforts. Come on, I’ll show you the best place to sit.”

They gather their food and wind through the dining hall to the far wall. Danny slips into the very last booth, partially concealed by the salad bar, and gestures for Laura to take the other side. When they’re both settled, Danny crosses her arms narrows her eyes.

“Now then, here’s what you do…”

 

~~

 

Two hours later Danny and Laura emerge from the dining hall, Danny enthusiastically explaining the rivalry between the boys and girls athletics leagues. The conversation had begun when Laura expressed her confusion about the athletics department actually being two separate clubs, and Danny was more than happy to fill in the blanks.  
  


“When Silas first opened there weren’t any girl sports teams,” she says as they walk across the grass towards the dorms, “All they had was the Zeta Omega Mu Athletics Collaborative. It was like, sponsored by a local college or something. Anyway, the girls didn’t think that was fair and started the Summer Society, which looked like a ladies badminton club or whatever, and then they challenged the guys to a baseball game at the end of the year and beat the gooey snot out of them. The administration decided to give us official funding and we’ve been rivals ever since.”

“Do you still play against each other?” Laura asks in amazement. 

“Oh, yeah. During the off-season the soccer teams play each other to stay in shape. Most of us used to be on other winter teams, but they all got cut because of the stupid construction budget. Though if they hadn’t, we wouldn’t have any sports, and the soccer team has always been the one that gets Silas on the map because we win the regional championships every year, so I guess there’s a silver lining somewhere.”

“Wow, that’s impressive and kinda sad all at the same time.”

Danny laughs, “Yep. That right there is the Silas motto. Sad but impressive.”

“Does everyone really think that?” Laura asks. She’d heard similar things before but it seemed like maybe people were just exaggerating. The school didn’t seem that bad. 

“I mean, not everyone, but yeah. We’ve got this history of being the best school in the state, but our campus is falling apart and the number of students has been falling steadily for like, the entire time I’ve been here. We’re the best, but we suck at it, basically. The school is failing,” Danny explains.

“Isn’t that why they’re building the new campus?” Laura asks, glancing through the darkness in the direction of the “modern monstrosity” that was the new science building. They seemed like pretty nice buildings, from what she’d seen, though nothing like the old campus. How could the school be out of money if it was building an entirely new campus from scratch?

“Yeah, but by the time that works, the school will be screwed. They should have just fixed up the old buildings, but the board voted against it for some reason. Apparently repairs would have cost more than just starting over. They end up taking a lot of money out of the extra curriculars and stuff. Even the art program is suffering, which is kinda weird.”

“Why? Don’t the arts usually get cut first?”

“At a normal school, but here at Silas art is the domain of none other than our good friend Carmilla. Her mom is on the board and let me tell you, that lady never plays nice. It’s just kinda weird that she’d vote to defund her daughter’s program over like… the new rec center or something, y’know?”

“Yeah… That is sort of weird...”

The sound of metal slamming into metal brings Laura back to earth. She nearly falls into Danny turning in the direction of the sound, her heart hammering in her chest as a car alarm blares angrily into the night. She steps away from Danny, conscious of the fact that she’s shaking like a leaf, and wraps around herself. Her locket is cold in her hand from the night air, the chain digging into her neck.

From the lights flashing in the parking light, it appears that someone has rear ended a parked car, an accomplishment for even the worst drivers. 

Not fatal. No one hurt. Right. Of course. Just a fender bender.

“Laura, are you okay?” Danny asks.

“Yeah, I’m just... I’m really cold all of a sudden. I, uh, better get back, I think,” she stammers as she backs away.

Danny nods, her brow furrowed in concern, “Yeah, just be careful okay? You don’t look so good.”

Laura wonders if the others had told Danny about her mom. After all, she and Perry are both hall monitors. The train of thought is cut off by the sound of metal scraping together and falling to the concrete as the car dislodges itself from the crooked fender. Laura holds her breath and turns, running back to her room as fast as she can.

She needs to talk to her dad.

Laura makes contact with exactly zero people as she races up to the third floor and fumbles with her keys. She drops them twice, her hands shaking so violently she can hardly see which key is which. Finally she gets the door open, her bag dropping like lead to the floor as she slams the door closed and flings herself onto her bed.

Her dad, at least, is in her speed dial. She hits one and presses the phone to her ear. 

It rings, and rings, and rings again.

“Come on, Dad, now is not the time!” she hisses.

“You’ve reached Daniel Hollis, I can’t come to the phone right now, but leave a message and I’ll-”

Laura yells angrily and throws the phone against the wall.

On the other side of the wall, Carmilla flinches, causing her to draw a scraggly line through the middle of her newest assignment. It was supposed to be portrait, though now her face is cleaved in half by black paint. Carmilla growls and throws down her brush. First the slamming doors and the banging and now this. What the hell is Laura doing?

Carmilla stomps into the hallway and bangs on Laura’s door loud enough to cause a noise disturbance in the next county over. It only takes a few moments before Laura stands before her, hair a mess, cheeks and eyes pink and wet. Carmilla stares at her for a moment, surprised. She hadn’t exactly planned for this type of outcome, or any outcome, but this one was especially confusing. 

“What?” Laura asks, her voice thin and watery.

“Uh, you sound like a t-rex and I’m trying to get shit done?” Carmilla says, her mask of indifference replaced without a second of hesitation.

“Wow, it’s almost like I don’t care,” Laura snaps, moving to slam the door closed. Carmilla puts out her hand and stops the door in its tracks. This only makes Laura’s sneer deeper and uglier, until she’s glowering at Carmilla like she’s released a wild carnivore in the building or something.

“Look, I don’t know what’s wrong, but would you just breathe for five fucking minutes and calm the hell down? Whatever it is I’m sure you can figure it out in one of your stupid little brainstorms. The world is not ending, as far as I can tell you’re free of physical injury, and monsters don’t actually live under beds, so I’m pretty sure your room is a safe space full of soft things and stuffed animals you’re going to deny having, okay? Just, I don’t know, hug a pillow and stop throwing things, would ya?”

Laura swallows and looks down at her feet. Carmilla waits in tense silence. God, why did she say all that? Why did she stop Laura from closing the door. Fuck, she’d probably offended the poor creature and is never going to hear the end of it. What had fucking possessed her?

“It won’t happen again,” Laura says. This time when she goes to close the door, Carmilla doesn’t stop her, watching in amazement instead as Laura disappears behind the solid oak and varnish with hardly a sound. She hadn’t even fought with her. 

Carmilla returns to her room and slides back into her spot on the floor with her paints. She decides to start over, since the paint has dried by now, and pulls a fresh sheet of paper from her desk drawer. As she paints she can’t help but wonder what the hell Laura had been doing before she knocked on the door. That hadn’t seemed like the usual teen drama, not by a long shot, and now she was being unbelievably quiet. Usually Carmilla could at least hear her moving around, but there was nothing, not even a vague whisper, coming through the wall. 

Was she okay? Had Carmilla been too harsh? And on second thought, why was she suddenly concerned with Laura’s wellbeing?

And yet the longer the silence stretches on, the more anxious she feels. Come on, Karnstein, let it go, she thinks. It’s not like Laura had been expecting her to be nice or anything.

Finally she stands and climbs over her bed to press her ear against the wall, straining to hear even the slightest sound from Laura’s room. She holds her breath, eyes closed, and runs down her entire vulgar vocabulary in her head. God, if she had somehow done something she couldn’t undo…

There’s a swish, and then a squeak, followed by the soft sound of computer keys. 

Oh thank god. 

Carmilla sits down on her bed, back to the wall, and stares down at the painting on her floor. Laura, with tear stained cheeks and fire in her eyes, stares back.

Fuck. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates Friday 12:00 PM PST

The second week of the term is gone in a flash. Mattie, in all her new teacher glory, is dismayed to find her professors truly weren’t lying about the amount of time grading sucks up. She’d spent all night and part of her breakfast feverishly painting her students’ assignments red, reminding herself over and over again that she can’t favor the smart ones, no matter how much they keep her sane. Who knew overachievers were the teachers’ vice? It was a massacre in twelve point font.

She winds up arriving later than she usually does, only ten minutes before the first bell, and thanks the stars that her first class isn’t until third period. The main office is empty when she steps in and Mattie figures she can take her time checking her mail and announcements for the morning. Even now, the secretaries don’t exactly let her forget who she used to be. They’re always watching her make copies or borrow office supplies with mildly displeased expressions. Nasty old biddies honestly. 

She finds two letters and a form request from one of her honors students, and is deciding which one takes precedence when the door opens and closes behind her. Footsteps don’t follow, the room instead settling into an eerie quiet. Mattie looks up. Perry stands in the doorway, a stack of forms clutched in her hands. They stare at each other for a long moment, frozen in the stillness of the morning. 

Mattie looks down. 

Perry breathes out.

The letters in Mattie’s hands aren’t as interesting as she hoped they’d be. One is from her masters program, an invitation to a seminar for extra credit, the other a formal letter from the principal to all members of the faculty. She doesn’t know why they don’t just e-mail. 

Perry busies herself arranging the forms on the head secretary’s desk. They go in order of class and then last name, with each student’s paperwork assembled in the same order and numbered. She’d spent a few extra hours on it when she couldn’t sleep the last few nights. 

Neither one of them looks at the other, not really, not entirely. Here or there Perry looks up to move around the table, but her gaze is more focused on her surroundings than Mattie, who is at the very least ten feet away. Her glances are simply precautionary, just… making sure Mattie is still there, reading quietly, lost in thought. 

Mattie is doing her best to keep her eyes on the paper, ignoring Perry’s footsteps and the shuffling of papers, reading the same paragraph over and over again. She can’t bring herself to duck into her office, to leave first. There’s something in her chest that tightens at the thought of moving. She can’t tell. Is she avoiding being seen? Of being the first to exit? Or is it more than that?

A crash in the hallway answers the question. Mattie’s head comes up to follow the noise, her eyes combing the hall for an answer. A few students look guilty, but none of them are dying and she figures that’s the best she can do when nothing is immediately out of place. Almost automatically, she looks to see Perry’s reaction. Perry is staring out the window, brow furrowed and lips pursed in obvious disapproval. God, she’d missed that. 

Perry looks over and meets her eyes before going back to her work hurriedly. A pink tinge is working it’s way up her cheeks and neck, her back straight and stiff as she evens stacks and makes minuscule adjustments. Mattie sighs and deposits her mail in her bag before taking a few steps in Perry’s direction.

“Would you mind if I asked you a question?” she asks, voice low and quiet. 

“That depends,” Perry says, “Is it a question about the procedures of the office or the school, or perhaps the grading scale?”

“No, it’s not.” 

“Then no, you can not.”

“It feels like it’s not over.”

Perry freezes, her eyes snapping to meet Mattie’s, “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean. It is. I certainly have absolutely no feelings for you whatsoever and clearly you don’t like me in any significant way either.”

Mattie sighs and closes her eyes, “That’s not what I meant, de- Perry.”

“Well, I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You act like what happened between us was only yesterday, your friend-”

“LaFontaine.”

“LaFontaine looks at me like I’m responsible for every evil ever done. I thought by now... well, I thought it would have been less painful. Tell me, Perry, is there something I missed?”

“I don’t think we should talk about it. It just… opens doors that should probably stay closed,” Perry says firmly. Her heart is beating wildly in her chest. Why now? What can Mattie possibly have to gain from asking her such a question?

“You’re different, you know, from the girl I knew all those years ago.” Mattie doesn’t know why she says it. It’s the kind of thing you say when you want someone to know you notice. 

“I grew up,” Perry responds. 

“Well… if you ever feel you need to tell me anything… talk, reacquaint ourselves… you know where to find me.” Mattie picks up her things and turns to walk the short way to her own office.

“You’ve changed, too,” Perry says, her voice soft, her throat tight. 

“Yes, I suppose I have,” Mattie murmurs, and then she’s gone around the corner, the only indication she was ever in the room a faint lingering of lilac in the air.

Perry huffs and turns on her heel. She’s not playing this game again. 

The halls are packed with students loitering outside their classrooms, avoiding the inevitable start of the day as best they know how. Perry winds through them with practiced ease, stopping to check in with one or two of the freshman on her floor on her way, dragging two boys apart outside of the bathrooms, all the things that come along with being a hall monitor and mentor. It takes her nearly ten minutes to arrive outside of Laura’s lit class, where LaFontaine is waiting for her to head over to the new science building for their physics class.

It was the only way the faculty could figure out how to reign in LaFontaine and their “independent experiments.” 

The two of them are huddled together near the door, Laura looking sick and worried, Laf nodding every now and again at the steady stream of words falling from their new friend’s mouth. Perry hurries to them, her smile bright and easy as she loops her arm through LaFontaine’s. 

“Good morning, my dears, what seems to be the problem?” Perry asks. 

“My dad hasn’t called in two days. I know he’s busy but with everything going on, I just really want to talk to the one person in the world that I still have, y’know?” 

“I do,” Perry murmurs, “I’m so sorry you’re dealing with all of it on your own, Laura. Would you like me to talk to the school counselor for you? I’m sure I could get you an appointment. Or you can talk to us, of course. We’re here for anything you need, if you’d have us.”

“See, what did I tell you, Laur? We’re on your team for good, no take-backsies and no refunds,” Laf says firmly, their arm draping over Perry’s shoulders.

“And don’t forget JP!” Perry adds triumphantly. 

Laura half-smiles and brushes her hair behind her ear, “Thanks guys. I’m really glad I met all of you. Hopefully this wild party will take my mind of things until I can get it all sorted out.”

“Just so long as the three of you remember-”

“No mysterious substances. No unprotected sex. No illegal firearms,” Laf and Laura say in unison.

“Right. Perfect! I will try my best not to worry,” Perry says.

“Why firearms? Did something happen that I should know about?” Laura asks.

“Sophomore year was… interesting,” Lafontaine says, looking down and away. Laura nods very slowly.

“Okay then. That’s… I’m not even going to think about it. Forget I asked.”

There are a series of yells at the other end of the hall, followed by a parting in the sea of students to allow the boys soccer team through. They’re in their uniforms, minus the cleats, and well-groomed for the unofficial game with the girls team that afternoon. 

Will is in the forefront with a tall, energetic guy to his left. He breaks from the pack momentarily to lean against the wall next to Carmilla, who must have wandered up at some point in the middle of the team display. He whispers something in Carmilla’s ear and she shoves him. He falls a few steps back and laughs, abandoning her once again to join his team. Carmilla looks over and meets Laura’s eyes, her mouth already curved into a deep frown.

Laura sets her jaw and looks away. Not today.

The first bell rings, a ten minute warning, and the halls start to empty out. Laf and Perry bid a quick goodbye and head out, the walk a little longer than it used to be, and Laura ducks into the classroom to claim her second row desk before someone else can get it.

Carmilla remains where she is, twirling her sunglasses in her hands. Laura had been wrong. Carmilla had been standing down the hallway for nearly twenty minutes, her bag at her feet and a cup of coffee in her hand. The look on Laura’s face, the way she’d been talking to Laf before Perry walked up; Carmilla can’t get it out of her head. At first she’d just thought Laura was oddly shy, despite what a big mouth she had, but now it seems like there is more to her than is immediately available for public consumption.

Which, again, why does she care? 

Why is Laura, of all people, suddenly the most interesting person in this school?

The second bell rings, five minute warning, and she stands, stretches. Only twelve hours and she’ll be halfway across the woods, forgetting any of this ever happened. She hefts her bag over her shoulder and walks into class, pointedly ignoring Laura as she takes her seat in the back. 

In her bag, the sketch of Laura she’d done last night rests heavy as stone. 

 

~~

 

Between class and the official homecoming festivities at six, Laura has about an hour to get ready. Studying in the library on party day? Not recommended.

She drops her bag on the floor next to her bed and sinks into her chair to check her email. Something buzzes behind her and she tilts her head in confusion. What could- oh! Her phone! She reaches over and digs it out of her backpack, flipping it open and-

The air leaves her lungs in one huge breath. Dad. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!

She fumbles to accept the call, cursing her old phone the entire time, and presses it to her ear.

"Dad?"

“Hey, Pumpkin! I got off work early and I saw I missed a few of your calls. I guess I forgot to keep my phone on me the last couple of days. What’s up?” His voice sounds thin through the phone, tired, like he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in ages. Laura falters, suddenly wondering if he is taking care of himself.

“Oh, just… so many things, I guess. My classes are really great and I’ve made some really cool friends,” she says, toying with the hem of her shirt.

“Sweetheart! That’s great! I’m so glad you’re doing well there!”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say… There’s this girl and we don’t really get along and it’s been kinda sucky the last couple of days, and then also I’ve missed you and I’ve been thinking about mom and it’s just… it’s really great to hear your voice, dad.”

There’s a long pause. Laura sits up straighter, holding her breath. Her hand hovers over the locket hanging beneath her shirt.Why had she said all that? Bringing up Carmilla and her mom in the same breath? 

“It’s really great to hear your voice too, kid.”

Laura breathes, her shoulders shaking as she bites back tears.

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. I’m sorry about this, really. Things have just been so hard after… well, after what happened and I just want you to know I’m trying to do my best for you.”

Laura wipes her eyes with the back of her hands and tries to shake it off, “Yeah, dad, of course I know that.”

“Good. Good… Maybe we can talk more this weekend? I’m on the train so I’m going to need to hang up here in a minute. I’d love to hear more about your classes and um… that girl?”

“Sure dad,” Laura says, letting out a watery laugh. 

“Well, I’m going to go then.”

“Okay,”

“And kid? Your mother would have been so proud of you.” His voice cracks on the word proud and Laura has to take another steadying breath.

“Thanks, dad. She would have been proud of you, too.”

“Okay, talk to you later, kid.”

“Bye, dad.”

Laura sets her phone and stares at it for a long moment. Well, they’d talked, at least. She sighs and goes to her closet, pushing the conversation as far from her mind as she can.

What the hell does a person wear to a wild party in a mansion in the woods, anyway?

Eventually she settles on a dark blue flannel and jeans, barely making it out the door in time to meet Lafontaine and JP outside the dining hall. 

They whisper through dinner, heads bent together over their plates as Laf explains the details of their daring escape. Laura can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline. The whole thing is pretty exciting, considering she’s never done anything like it in her life.

And Laf’s plan? Genius.

“We go to the dance first, make it look like we’re participating in school functions, and then head back to the dorms under the pretense of turning in for the night. Only after we check in and go to our rooms, we sneak down the back staircase and out the door. The door is supposed to set off the fire alarm if it’s opened, but someone always rigs it the first week of classes. From there we follow the trees around Hawthorne Hall and then cross the courtyard. Because the main entrance to the gym is on the other side, we sneak around the library and down to the edge of the lake. Then we go along the beach until we get to the property and there we are,” they explain.

“We hid our firework supplies next to the library wall before we came here. We just pick it up and we are ready to go,” JP says.

“100% success rate, every time.” Laf confirms.

“One question?” Laura asks.

“Shoot.”

“You guys are seniors. Why do we have to sneak around if you can leave campus anyway?”

Laf and JP look at each other, and then shrug.

“It’s fun. Plus, we all have to do our part to protect our fellow underage student from the wrath of Principal Trudy, right?”

Right.

They wait the allotted forty-five minutes and then slip out of the sweaty gym at precisely 8:15, saying goodnight to Principal Trudy at the door on their way out. They run back to save time, arriving at the dorms a little after 8:30 and meeting at the back door only minutes later. After making sure the coast is clear, Laf gives them the go ahead signal, and they slip out into the dark.

They make it around the library and into the hiding spot, a little maintenance shed, in record time, and quickly split up the various supplies into easy to carry portions. Laura is handed a box of suspicious looking wires and bobbles, while JP and Laf carry what they call “Legitimately Dangerous Shenanigans.”

Laura finds it even more exhilarating that it initially sounded. The adrenaline coursing through her keeps her warm and awake, two things she hasn’t felt in what seems like forever. With her friends, heading into the unknown, it feels like she could do anything. 

They end up on the shores of the lake, a weirdly shaped body of water with beaches and coves in surprising and sometimes odd places, and bump into perhaps a dozen other students making their way to the party. Most of them are younger, sophomores and freshman Laf says, and Laura briefly wonders if kids that young should be going to this kind of party at all. Juniors and seniors were one thing but freshmen? Barely out of middle school?

“Psst! Hey!”

The trio look over at the tree line. Danny is standing half hidden behind a big oak, an unimpressed expression on her face. She jogs out to the beach, glancing at the kids up ahead to make sure they hadn’t heard her. 

“Really guys? You’re going to haze her?” she hisses at JP and Laf.

“You say that like our school traditions are painful and not at all an important part of who we are at Silas Academy,” Laf says.

“Hazing?” Laura asks.

“It’s very important,” JP whispers.

Danny rolls her eyes, “It’s just a silly prank.”

“If it’s silly, why are you whispering?” Laf asks.

“Cause I don’t want to ruin it for the kids up ahead who are actually freshman and have been looking forward to this since sixth grade,” Danny explains.

“Fair,” Laf says

“Guys, what hazing?” Laura asks again, looking between her friends for any clue as to what weird thing she’s just wandered into.

“Don’t worry, Hollis, you’ll see. Come on, we’re going the right way.”

Danny steers them back towards the woods and onto a concealed path away from the beach. Laf sulks the whole way, JP clearly amused by what Laura assumes is some sort of major inconvenience. Up ahead she spots a gnarly old house on the lake front. It’s big and victorian, the windows cracked or missing, the paint peeling and the siding falling in some places.

“That’s not where the party is, is it?” she asks.

“Nope. That’s the Shunned House. There’s this whole story about how the place is haunted,” Danny explains, “The sophomores always bring the freshman out here the night of homecoming and…”

Danny gestures to the group of kids that had been in front of them on the beach, now just crossing in front of the house. All of a sudden three figures in all white jump from the windows on the first floor, making strange, horrific noises. The freshman scream and scatter down the beach, the sophomores laughing hysterically as they follow their charges.

“So that’s like… part of some ghost story?” Laura asks, willing her heart to slow down before it pops right out of her ribcage.

“Nah, that’s just what they do because it’s tradition. The ghost story is actually much cooler than that,” Laf says.

“The ghost story is ridiculous. I have no idea why anyone even believes that old thing,” Danny scoffs.

“Well, historically-” JP begins.

“Ah-ah, not tonight. No ghost stories on homecoming night,” Danny says.

Laf and JP look at each other in disappointment and thinly veiled disgust, but move along the path anyway.

“What if I want to hear it?” Laura asks.

“Trust me, you don’t,” Danny laughs, “But if you’re really that curious I’ll tell you sometime when we’re out of the woods and it’s daytime.”

“Ooooh so you ARE scared of the ghost!”

“No, I don’t trust the kids hanging around in these woods. Some of them are weird little creepers.”

Laura shrugs, “Fine. If you say so.”

Danny laughs, “You’re ridiculous, Hollis.”

Laura shrugs, “I guess I have a thing about ghost stories. My... my mom used to tell me one when I was little. It was about a lake too, actually.”

“Huh. We should trade sometime.”

“Yeah. I’d like that,” Laura says, her fingers brushing her locket. 

But not tonight, she thinks, tonight is for letting loose and forgetting everything that is happening in her life right now. 

The lights of the party appear up ahead soon after their little demonstration at the shunned house. Out of the trees spills a massive estate with trimmed grass and fountains in the yard. There’s a balcony that runs the length of the second floor already packed with people and the music can be heard from nearly thirty yards away. Laura feels a boost of adrenaline at the thought they might get caught out here, and then remembers that Laf had mentioned no one else lived anywhere in a five mile radius of the property.

Except the school, of course.

“Hey, Laur, we’re going to set up by the dock!” Laf says, pointing her in the direction of the water. After setting her cargo where she’s instructed to, Laf pats her on the shoulder and grins.

“Well, Newbie, that’s all I need for a while, or ever, really. Feel free to go hang out inside and see what crazy cool stuff is happening!” 

Laura turns toward the house, with all of it’s guests spilling out onto the lawn, and steels herself for what’s to come.

Let’s do this.

 

~~

 

Carmilla, for all intents and purposes, does not want to be at William’s party. She wants to be at home in bed with a book of poetry or a sketchpad, but unfortunately neither of those have been taking her mind off her little dilemma.

She moves through the crowd like a shark, the sea of bodies parting for her out of fear more than anything else. She can only imagine what she looks like, her sour expression and rumpled clothes the exact opposite of everyone else in the house. 

She wants a drink. She wants a nice quiet, dark spot to watch the idiocy unfold in front of her. She wants shots and fireworks and the feeling of disgustingly sweaty people all smashed in a room together dancing to whatever garbage is hot that week. Sure, it’s a lot to ask for, but she has a lot on her mind as well, the neverending face of one obnoxious new girl, and a million questions she’s certain she does not actually want the answer to.

She finds a drink easily enough and makes her way back to what is technically a living room and up the stairs. There are enough people that no one seems to recognize or care that she is who she is. When the party isn’t hot enough, everyone always expects her to make it hotter. 

She hates nights like that.

She’s leaning over the indoor balcony, drinking and staring at the people below, when a familiar form in a flannel shirt catches her attention. Of course the brat has to be here. How else would the universe fuck her over this week.

She growls low in her throat and shoves her way deeper into the house.

Laura is unlikely to leave the living room if her wide eyed, bobble-headed approach is anything to go by. 

Carmilla will just have to find a dark room with faceless people and all will be well.

 

~~

 

Loud.

Wild parties are loud. And sweaty. And everyone is a little too grabby, or falling over, or throwing up right in front of her. 

Laura has no idea why she agreed to come.

Laf and JP disappeared around the second round of shots, citing a supply run, and Laura has stayed pressed against the living room wall ever since. Two guys have hit on her in the last fifteen minutes, never mind the last hour, and as far as she can tell a “Tour Guide” is taking people into the garage to do whatever shady business goes on in garages in the dead of night.

She really doesn’t want to know.

She fiddles with her cup, hoping that the juice she found in the kitchen isn’t spiked with anything. She’s already had three, being nervous and all, and alcohol on top of everything else probably isn’t the answer she’s looking for. Or the answer for anything, really. 

Bright red hair appears over the top of the crowd and Laura bounces onto the balls of her feet.

“Danny!”

Danny hears her, thank goodness, cutting through the wasteland of dancing and inappropriate gestures to lean against the wall. 

“Hey, Hollis, how you liking your first party?”

“This is disgusting.”

Danny laughs, “Yeah, it really is. Thank god I’m only here as a sober buddy, y’know? I don’t even want to guess what half of these people are doing.”

“Seriously. Isn’t there like, something less exciting happening somewhere?” 

“Sorry, this is pretty much it,” Danny sighs.

A dude in a crown made out of toilet paper rolls and a half unbuttoned jersey appears in the crowd. He dances towards them, making fish impressions the entire way.

“Wassup, Lawrence? Good game today. You guys almost had it!” he yells over the music. It clicks. He’s the guy they’d seen with Will before class. 

Danny rolls her eyes and punches his shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, rub it in why don’t you.”

“Hey, D-bear, come on, I mean it! You guys were rad on that field! We just got lucky I think. Plus that ref totally didn’t call my foul on 23. Hey! You wouldn’t mind telling her I’m sorry for that would ya? I woulda pulled back if I saw her, honest!”

He sways slightly as he talks, blinking rapidly. Laura can smell the alcohol in his red solo cup and on his breath. Danny doesn’t seem to mind exactly, but she has this look on her face somewhere between amusement and exasperation that reminds Laura of the way she looked at Laf earlier. 

“I’ll make sure she knows,” Danny says, “In other news, have you met Laura?”

“Hey! You’re the new girl everyone is talking about! I mean, not everyone, just, we never get new people, so it’s kinda cool, y’know, that you’re new.” He turns and belches over his shoulder and the crowd cheers. Oh boy.

“This is Kirsch,” Danny says, her tight smile and raised eyebrow telling Laura all she needs to know.

“Uh, hi. Good to meet you,” she says, carefully holding her cup with both hands to discourage any kind of hand-shaking.

“You ever need anything, little hottie, I will help you right out. All friends of Danny’s are friends of the team.” He smacks his fist over his chest in some display of solidarity and spills some of his beer in the process. Laura grimaces. Gross.

A girl with a light brown complexion and long, curly, black hair steps out of the crowd and stalks into their small circle.

“So this must be the new girl,” she drawls, “And of course, Danny Lawrence, babysitting.”

“Come on, Mel, don’t be a dick,” Danny says.

“Hey, I’m not judging. Just an observation,” Mel smirks, turning to Laura, “I’m Mel, co-captain of the girls soccer team with our resident white knight here.”

“Uh, hi?” Laura doesn’t know if she should be offended or confused. How many antagonistic friendships did Danny have anyway?

“Good game today, captain!” Kirsch says.

“Stuff it, jockwipe. I just came over to tell Danny here that they need her in the back. Some of the girls are trying to put together some kind of race but they’re drunk and it’s not pretty,” Mel explains.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Danny sighs, pushing off the wall, “I’ll be back in a bit, guys.”

Laura watches them disappear with dismay.

“So do you want a play by play of today’s game or something. It was pretty sweet if I do say so myself,” Kirsch says.

“Um, actually, do you know where the bathroom is?” she asks.

“I mean, there are like nine of them but they’re mostly full of alcohol and people and… other stuff. Oh, hey! The ones upstairs are probably clear though. This house is huge.”

“Cool. I’ll be right back.” 

Laura pushes her way through the crowd and up the stairs, doing her best not to gag as she is assaulted by a myriad of sights and smells she really never needed in her life ever. The upstairs is almost worse than downstairs, what with all the dark hallways and available rooms. Laura wanders for what feels like forever before she finds a hallway that seems nearly deserted. Her feet ache and she can feel her body getting sluggish with every step. It is like, so past her bedtime.

She walks down the hall slowly, fumbling for doorknobs in the dark. There had to be a bathroom here somewhere. Who could have this many bedrooms and no bathroom? Before she knows it, one door is left. Laura sighs and twists the knob, relieved to find it unlocked. This had to be-

She freezes in the doorway, her mouth falling open. It’s not a bathroom, but in fact another bedroom. An occupied bedroom. A bedroom occupied by two people who definitely were not expecting anyone to walk in.

The moonlight filtering through the window gives Laura a better view than necessary, highlighting the bare shoulders of a girl with dark hair straddling a blonde in a tiny little skirt. They’re moving against each other, wet kisses and soft groans echoing through the small space. Laura must gasp, because next thing she knows the two of them are freezing and turning towards her and-

Oh no.

Oh no no no no.

Carmilla.

 

~~

 

Across the campus from the festivities, Mattie sits behind her desk with a bottle of wine and a lesson plan. The lamp on her desk casts a soft glow around the room, the only light on in the whole building perhaps. It’s a small room, with a few pieces of frail old furniture and one cramped window, but it’s enough. There are more important things than offices, even if the ones down the hall are practically apartments in and of themselves.

Mattie hadn’t felt like going home, not when the campus is neck deep in homecoming and the dance, even if she hadn’t really been invited. She knows that half the campus isn’t even present, having been a major player in the homecoming party herself as a student, but crashing that party had seemed like an even worse idea. Perhaps she just wants to be close to the action, but either way her nostalgic side has risen from the ashes of her old life and latched on tight.

So she stays in her office, listens to the music from the gym echo through the night out of her open window, and does her job.

There’s a soft knock on her door at some point, a murmured “come in” falling from her lips without a thought, her eyes already heavy from a long day of freshman and sophomores. 

The door opens, footfalls approach her desk, and Mattie looks up. 

“Oh,” she says, “It’s you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates Friday 12:00 PM PST

Perry takes a seat in the chair across from Mattie’s desk and smoothes her skirt over her knees with stiff, precise movements. Mattie leans back, eyes narrowed in curiosity. They are encased in the soft light of the lamp, the world outside only a memory. The old clock on the wall marks the seconds with a steady tick, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Whatever happens will happen one way or another.

“I assume you’re here to… talk?” Mattie guesses.

“You can’t ask me about what happened because of our… anyway, I’m not talking about it and that’s that,” Perry says.

“Does that include why you took a year off?”

“Yes.

“Where you went?”

“My parents moved us to France. I didn’t attend school while I was there, and as such I enrolled as a sophomore when we came back,” Perry explains, hoping the information is enough to deter future inquiries.

“I assume you’ll want to ask me questions as well?” Mattie asks, raising an eyebrow.

Perry purses her lips, “Maybe. I haven’t exactly decided yet.”

Mattie tilts her head to the side, one hand coming up to rest against her jaw. Her eyes trace the shadow of Perry’s cheek, the warm light reflected in her eyes, the way her hands rest white-knuckled in her lap.

“Alright, I accept your terms,” Mattie says.

Perry falters in surprise, having expected a much longer struggle over the rules of engagement, and then smiles faintly, fleetingly, as if that will satisfy and devalue the fluttering in her chest all in one go. Her guarded, detached expression is back in place within seconds, but they both know what’s really there now, just under the surface. Perry clears her throat and readjusts her composure in an attempt to scrape together a little extra dignity.

“Well, then. Ask away.”

 

~~

 

Her lips are like a perfect bloody kiss on the palest porcelain, trembling, parted by shining teeth and a rose-colored tongue. Her chest, rising and falling in the moonlight, is taut across glass bones, her breasts soft and full against the sharpness of her ribs. Black, erratic curls fall across her skin, dancing up the plane of her collarbone and the exposed column of her neck to her jaw and flushed cheeks. Here the tangles of her bangs fall into her face, half obscuring the glittering, obsidian eyes, wide with innocent curiosity, that stare out from beneath perfectly arched eyebrows.

Laura stares. She can’t help it. Carmilla is nothing like Laura thought she was. She’s young and raw just like the rest of them, and her eyes, there’s something soft in them. Something gentle. Something kind.

At least, for a moment.

And then the eyes are narrowing and the lips are curling into a snarl and all of it turns to stone, “Get out.”

Laura is slow to react, but once she does she finds herself stumbling back, hands scrambling to shut the door.

“Get the fuck OUT!” Carmilla roars, striding towards her, shoving her away, pushing the door closed with such ferocity the walls shake. The moonlight is cut off, plunging the hall into darkness once again. Laura collides with the wall and turns, runs, as fast as she can, back the way she’d come.

In the room Laura has just vacated, Carmilla presses her back against the door and runs her hand through her hair. Her heart is hammering in her chest, drowning her in the feeling that something horrible has just happened. Laura wasn’t meant to see her like this, to see her at _all_.

What was that brat thinking, walking into a random room at a party like this?

On the bed, Elsie leans back on her hands and licks her lips, “So are we gonna finish this or…?”

At least Elsie hadn’t noticed. She’d be acting differently, strutting a little more, maybe trying to take control if she thought Carmilla had an ounce of weakness, if she thought Carmilla was _soft._

Carmilla laughs quietly and picks her shirt up off the floor. She can still taste the bitter resentment and the ugly inconvenience that is Laura Hollis. Finish this. Oh, she was going to finish something all right.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m a little more selective than that,” she drawls.

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, don’t sound surprised. How many girls do you know that have gotten past second base with me?” Her voice is hard and mocking. Part of her doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but the other part doesn’t care.

“Is this cause that weirdo walked in on us? Like, what’s the big deal?”

“It was over before she walked in,” Carmilla says, and then she’s walking out the door and not looking back. Not at Elsie, or that room, or the place where Laura stood and stared and stuck her with this feeling of wrongness so far down in her gut she feels sick.

And yet she can’t get the look on Laura’s face out of her head. Her wide eyes had been shining not with contempt or hatred, but uninhibited awe.

Awe at Carmilla. A burning, catastrophic wonder and reverence that poured from Laura like she was helpless in the face of it.

Why would she look like that?

Why would she value something as ugly as the weakness Carmilla has always tried to hide?  
  


~~

 

Will lounges against the wall in the kitchen, the steady stream of people in and out like white noise around him. His eyes are fixed on the tall figure through the archway that leads into the living room. He shakes his head. Halfway through the night and they’d only said two words to each other. Would it kill Kirsch to leave his date for five seconds and acknowledge his best friend, y’know, the guy who’d had his back for years?

Though, yeah, maybe he’d be doing the same thing if he’d brought anybody or hooked up or whatever, but this year he hadn’t. Hadn’t felt like it, or something. Besides, none of the girls on campus were interesting anymore. After six years together, the appeal had faded. He’d thought about hooking up with one or two of the guys, but they were all either too cocky or too whiny for his tastes.

So he chills near the beer and waits for something interesting to happen. At least watching the drunk kids fall over and make disasters out of themselves is pretty entertaining.

Kirsch waves goodbye to whoever he’s speaking with and starts cutting through the crowd towards the kitchen. He smacks Will in the shoulder on his way by and stops at the keg to refill his cup.

“Awesome party, dude. You really outdid yourself this year,” Kirsch says, throwing his arm around Will’s shoulders.

“This year’s party is definitely going down in history,” Will agrees, his frown instantly morphing into a grin. Kirsch nods, his eyes heavy from the alcohol and the bright kitchen light.

“Y’know, I am like so glad your mom finally let you come to soccer camp this summer. It was seriously like so much more fun than usual. Like, what’s a camp with your team if your best bro isn’t there y’know?”

“Yeah, buddy, I’m glad too.” Will laughs. Kirsch drunk is probably the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen. The guy gets so talkative he can hardly shut up, and he always just goes on about the most random stuff.

“You’re a really great bro. Like, the best bro in the world, y’know?”

“Yeah, dude, I know. We’ve been best friends for years,” Will says.

“I know, I just want to make sure you know how much I appreciate you,” Kirsch says, his voice growing suddenly serious. He’s still holding Will against his side, but his arm has slipped from Will’s shoulder to his back. His hand has closed around Will’s bicep, his body turning in toward his friend in a way that makes Will feel a tightness in his chest. Kirsch’s eyes are still bright with alcohol and his skin is warm to the touch. Will swallows, avoiding the thoughts suddenly springing into his mind. They weren’t like this. Kirsch is his friend, not… not whatever this is.

“I know, Kirsch. Come on, how much have you had, man?” Will teases, slipping easily out of his grasp and making a move for Kirsch’s cup. He hopes Kirsch doesn’t notice the way his hands are shaking, or the way his face is flushed, but chances are he’s too drunk to be noticing much of anything.

“I mean, not that much,” Kirsch says, his brow furrowing as he tries to remember exactly how much he’s had. He looks a little forlorn, a little lost, and when he adjusts his stance he closes himself off with an arm across his chest.

“Hey, I was just teasing,” Will explains. Kirsch cracks a smile.

“I know, I think I’m just tired from the game.”

Will tilts his head to the side. Kirsch is usually pumped after games, not tired.

He’s still staring at Kirsch curiously when something in the other room catches Kirsch’s attention. He perks up, his red solo cup discarded on the table as he walks forward into the other room. Will follows his line of sight and realizes Laura is shoving her way down the stairs as fast as she can.

“That’s Danny’s new friend,” Kirsch says.

“Huh, I wonder what’s wrong,” Will muses.

Kirsch bolts to the back door and throws it open, “Danny?”

“She’s not out here,” one of the girls on the patio says.

“She just came out here a minute ago! DANNY!”

“Dude, lay off, she’s really not out here,” another girl complains.

Kirsch turns back around and runs himself in circles trying to figure out which way to go, “We need to find Danny!”

“Christ, Kirsch, I’m right here. You sound like you’re being murdered, what the fuck?” Danny says, coming up the basement stairs. Her cheeks are red and her ponytail is loose. Kirsch disregards her question and pulls her toward the living room.

“Something’s wrong with Laura,” he says. Danny straightens up and looks out over the room.

“Did you see where she went?”

“Probably out the front door,” Will says. The only other way she would have come was towards them, and she clearly hadn’t. Danny and Kirsch take off, the crowd parting for them with ease. Will slouches back against the wall and sighs.

Well, five minutes with his bestfriend is better than nothing.

“Hey, are there any cups left?”

Will turns around in surprise. Mel raises an eyebrow at him impatiently. Her hair is hastily pinned back and one of her sleeves is drooping off her shoulder.

“There should be more outside by the coolers,” he says. Mel nods and disappears out the back door. Will resumes his position on the wall. Where was he…

 

~~

 

Laura shoves her way out of the house and half runs out onto the front lawn. She breathes in the cold night air like she’s suffocating, relief flooding her system as the sounds and smells of the party fade away. She shouldn’t have come to this stupid party. It was gross, and loud, and all she wanted was to go to bed and sleep for the next 100 years if not longer. God, what had she’d been thinking?

“Laura!”

Danny appears next to her, looking slightly ruffled, and Kirsch falls into frame behind her.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” Danny asks.

“Whoever it was we’ll make ’em pay for it,” Kirsch adds.

Laura shakes her head, hands balling into fists at her sides.

“I… Carmilla…” The moment is burned into her mind, resurfacing between every thought that crosses her mind. That look, that girl...

“Oh, I’m so going to kick her ass. Being a dick is one thing but honestly,” Danny fumes.

“No! I walked in on her. With some girl. They were, y’know, and I just stood there, staring, and she yelled at me to get out and the next thing I know the door is closed, but I just… I stood there staring at her for like, a ridiculously long time. And she was angry. Really, really angry, and I just want to go home, but home isn’t even a place anymore and...”

“Whoa there, Laura, it’s okay. You just walked in on her! She’s going to be pissed, yeah, but it’s not like you committed a murder or anything.”

“I just wanted things to be normal for one night,” Laura groans. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, all she feels is exhausted. Carmilla could exist on another planet for all she cares, as long as a warm bed and soft pajamas are somewhere in her immediate future.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to the dorms,” Danny says.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that!”

“You can’t walk back alone, Newbie. The forest is notoriously weird after dark and you don’t know the paths well enough.”

“Hey, take my car, you can drop her off and come back no problem,” Kirsch says, his keys dangling from his hand. There’s a spaceship keychain dangling off the end that looks older than Kirsch himself. Danny eyes them for a second before snatching them up.

“It’s the-”

“Nasty paint job with the dent on the ass, I know,” Danny says sharply.

“Jeez, I was just trying to help,” Kirsch mumbles.

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry,” Danny sighs, rubbing at her eyes, “Just go back to the party and I’ll bring it back soon, okay?”

Kirsch shrugs and waves goodbye as he jogs back into the house. Laura looks at Danny expectantly.

“Should I assume I wasn’t the only one who had a weird, not so great night?” she asks.

“I was in the middle of dealing with some drunk idiots when Kirsch started yelling for me. That’s what I get for being the designated driver,” Danny laments.

Laura nods, and wraps her arms around herself. Her coat is somewhere in the house, taken off when the heat of the party became too much. She considers going back for it, but the thought of going in that house again makes her skin crawl.

“Did you leave your jacket?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen I think.”

“I can go-”

“It’s fine. Someone will find it when they’re cleaning up probably,” Laura cuts her off.

They walk in silence to Kirsch’s truck and clamber in. It’s surprisingly clean on the inside, though the outside is covered in dirt.

“Wow,” Laura says, running her fingers over the ridiculously expensive radio installed in the dash.

“Kirsch refurbed this thing after his dad gave it to him. He loves it probably more than people,” Danny explains.

“I thought you guys were supposed to despise each other? Y’know, cause of the Summer-Zeta rivalry? You and Kirsch seem like friends.”

“Kirsch had a crush on me sophomore year and once I got him to stop leaving me presents like an over-zealous barn cat, he actually turned out to be pretty cool. Granted, still not my type, but he was fine with being friends. Excited to be friends, actually,” Danny says.

Laura settles into her seat as Danny starts the car and pulls out onto the road. The trees flash by them like dark figures reaching out. Laura fiddles with her necklace absently, watching for the moon over the trees.

“So that locket’s pretty important, huh?” Danny asks.

“My mom gave it to me when I turned ten.” Laura pops the locket open and traces the heart-shaped frame inside. Her mother smiles back, as young as she was on the day little Laura had snapped the photo and cut it out.

“That’s a nice picture,” Danny says.

“Yeah,” Laura replies absently. Her gaze drifts back to the moon, the locket nearly forgotten around her neck.

What would her mother do? Would she try to reason with Carmilla? Apologize? Strike a truce?

Carmilla’s eyes, bright and innocent, flash into her mind. The girl in that bedroom was not the girl who had been making Laura’s life a living hell. Carmilla was more than she seemed, more than anyone knew, probably. She’d looked so innocent, so curious and free. She didn’t deserve Laura’s taunting anymore than Laura deserves hers.

“Hey, Laura, are you okay?” Danny asks, glancing at her from the corner of her eye.

“I think I’m just really tired,” Laura murmurs.

Behind them, brilliant showers of light and color flash across the sky.

 

~~

 

When Perry wakes, the air is cold and stale around her. What little light late September offers her filters through the window in a dull, flat way, signaling that morning arrived some time ago. She’s curled up on the couch in the corner of Mattie’s office, a long, black coat draped over her. Of course, they don’t turn the heaters on during the weekends.

She knows she’s alone before she sits up. They’d talked late, hadn’t they? After midnight, at the very least. She hadn’t bothered to check the time, especially not after she’d moved from the chair to the couch, listening to Mattie explain her lesson plan, interrupting every once in awhile with an anecdote. They’d run out of things to talk about at that point, but it was late and cold outside and Mattie was gentler than Perry remembered. Gentler even than she was in class or in the halls. They didn’t directly address it, of course, but the woman sitting in front of her had not been the same girl that walked out of the bathroom and never looked back.

Perry stands and hangs the coat on the hook by the door. Her gloves and her hat are still sitting innocently enough on the edge of the desk. She goes to retrieve them, surprised when a letter with her name on it slips out from beneath her hat and onto the floor. Perry traces the perfect cursive letters and looks to the message inside.

_Thank you for speaking with me last night. Despite your refusal to share the exact details of what occurred after my departure from Silas, I believe I understand the situation with much more clarity than before. Our conversation was quite the treat, and I do hope we can begin to put things behind us._

_~Mattie_

Perry smiles softly and tucks the letter into her coat pocket. There. Now there isn’t any need to be uncomfortable or preoccupied with each others presence. From this moment on, Mattie will simply be another teacher at Silas.

Well, as long as Lafontaine and Mattie stay as far away from each other as possible. She can’t exactly tell Lafontaine that she’s seen Mattie, can she? They would… well they’d worry about her. Besides, how is she supposed to explain her lack of repulsion at the idea of spending time with Mattie? They’ll think she’s developing feelings again or that Mattie is using her power as a teacher to take advantage of her.

Clearly it’s better to keep things simple and manageable and… secret.

The grounds are deserted as she walks back to the dorms. It’s only a little past ten, so most if not all of the students who’d gone to the part last night are still asleep. Perry hopes that includes Lafontaine, who hopefully hasn’t noticed she’s absent yet. They hadn’t texted her last night, which both worries and relieves her. On one hand, maybe something awful happened, on the other, well, things might continue on as if nothing at all were different from yesterday.

She still steps into their shared, apartment-style dorm room (courtesy of her being a Junior Officer and a senior) as if someone might hear her returning. Everything is just as she left it, moderately tidy save for the odd science paraphernalia and a few unwashed dishes she just hadn’t gotten to yet. Lafontaine’s door is closed, which could either mean they aren’t back or are still asleep. Perry slips by into her own room and undresses, throwing on her bathrobe with the intention of a quick shower and general sprucing up before she starts her day.

She’s halfway to the bathroom on the other side of the apartment when a key turns in the door.

Lafontaine shuffles in, eyes ringed with sleep and exhaustion, their coat only haphazardly thrown over their shoulders. They drop their backpack next to the door and head straight for the refrigerator, chugging the last of the milk all in one go. They put the container back in the fridge and turn around, finally catching sight of Perry standing in the hall.

“Hey Per! Sorry I didn’t call last night. I crashed at JP’s cause it was closer and we seriously didn’t get back until really late.”

“It’s fine, you’re clearly alright, so...”

Lafontaine looks her up and down, finally taking in the entirety of their surroundings.

“Did you just wake up? I mean I was wondering why you hadn’t called to check in… but you never sleep in…” they say, squinting in confusion.

“I accidentally stayed up doing homework last night. Our reading for English is really, very interesting you know. Then, of course I didn’t want to get too little sleep so I slept in for just a few minutes, but someone needed assistance this morning so I’m only just now getting around to showering!” Perry explains.

Laf nods suspiciously, but seems to accept the premise.

“Well, I think I’m going to pass out for a few more hours. That party was wild. After the fireworks started everything is pretty much a technicolor blur. I’m not even sure how we got back.’

“Did Laura stay at JP’s as well? That seems like a bit of a tight fit,” Perry says.

Lafontaine frowns. Slowly, their eyes widen until they look more awake than they have in days.

“Oh boy, statistically this is bad,” they say.

“What?”

“I don’t remember seeing Laura after we started the fireworks, like, at all. I don’t think… well… I’m not sure she came back with us?”

“... Lafontaine?” Perry’s voice rises as she enunciates the name, her eyes narrowing. Honestly? They’d just left Laura somewhere at that awful party?

“Yep, I’m on it!” they say, dashing back out the door. Perry stands with her hand on her hip, wondering if she should go after them. It’s not like she can help Laura without being properly dressed. With this in mind she hurries into the bathroom. If Lafontaine comes back to report some sort of emergency, well, she’ll need to be prepared.

For the first time that morning, Mattie is the furthest thing from her mind.

 

~~

 

Laura ignores the pounding on her door as long as she can before dragging herself out of bed to see who it is. Finding Laf leaning up against the wall like a guilty puppy isn’t all that surprising, to be honest. She still wishes maybe they’d waited another hour before coming over, but she also suspects they haven’t been to bed yet.

“Laura, I am so sorry. JP and I should have kept an eye out for you. I promise we never meant to leave you at the party.”

“Uh, I left before you did,” Laura says, “Danny gave me a ride back in Kirsch’s truck at like, eleven.”

Laf visibly relaxes, but then seems to reconsider, “Why didn’t you tell us you were leaving?”

Laura cringes and shuffles back to sit on her bed, “I just didn’t want to ruin your night, I guess?”

“Ruin it?” Laf asks, “Wait, why’d you leave so early?”

“Oh, y’know. It just wasn’t really my thing and then I bumped into Carmilla…”

“Really? She was actually at the party?” Laf sits down next to Laura, intrigued.

“Yeah, she was… and something sort of… happened,” Laura says.

“You saw her boobs.”

Laura looks at laf in slack-jawed surprise, “How did you…”

“It’s a party, she has a reputation, you’re short so like, prime boob viewing level; it seemed plausible to be honest.”

“Plausible?” Laura doesn’t know if she should be confused or offended. How was Carmilla and her doing anything at all plausible?

“I mean, there are weirder kinds of foreplay than constantly antagonizing each other, newbie. And Carmilla… I mean, she kinda gets around no matter what,” Laf says with a shrug.

“No, we didn’t… it wasn’t… I walked in on her with some girl!”

“Ooooh, right, that makes more sense…” Laf agrees, “I’m not going back on the plausible thing, though. Anything can happen if it gets late enough.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. The problem is I sort of, stared at her?”

“Yes, that is often the natural human reaction to surprise?”

“No! She was pissed. Like, murder me and serve me for breakfast pissed. I think I might have actually invoked the beast on this one.”

“Shit. You need to change your name and switch schools,” Laf advises.

“Do you really think it will be that bad? Can’t I just apologize or something?” Laura asks.

The sound of the Carmilla’s door opening on the other side of the wall makes them freeze. There’s a loud thump, followed by the door slamming shut. They can hear Carmilla walking around her room, throwing things and looking through drawers.

“I think you need to shore up and prepare for war,” Laf whispers.

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” Laura mumbles back.

Laf slips out a few minutes later, leaving Laura to lay on her bed and avoid making any noise that would lead to a confrontation with Carmilla.

She does her best to start her history reading, but she finds herself glancing over at the wall every few minutes. It’s like she can feel Carmilla on the other side radiating heat. The girl she’d seen last night, shaded in greys and blues like a statue, should not have been so full of fire.

And yet, Laura is certain that if she’d reached out and touched her in that moment, they would have burned alive.


	6. Chapter 6

When Carmilla’s Monday alarm goes off at precisely 8:30, it is perched precariously on the top of her bookcase. It vibrates enthusiastically for a full minute before falling the short distance to the floor, where it continues its journey in haphazard circles until giving up and resetting for another ten minutes.

Clearly, escape is futile.

The room is a mess, clothes thrown over every surface, bowls and empty glasses littering the desk and floor. The bed is unmade, covers twisted and pulled apart, pillow shoved against the wall. The sheets are already cold, the alarm useless, and all of it is unnoticed.

Carmilla is standing in the bathroom staring at herself in the mirror. Her fingers are clenched around the edge of the counter so tightly in another universe it might break, shatter, and leave her bleeding. 

She can’t stop seeing  _ her. _ Those eyes. She can’t stop feeling them on her skin. She can’t stop feeling as if it had been Laura who was pressed against her, chest to chest and as hot as the core of a star. Just one look from that precious girl and she was reduced to desperation.

Laura had no right. She wasn’t supposed to see Carmilla like… like  _ that _ . God, why had she wandered into that room? Why was the universe so hell bent on destroying her inch by fucking inch?

Is that what Laura will think of now, every time she sees her? Will this be Carmilla’s downfall?

A dull buzz from the other room brings Carmilla back from her thoughts. She runs her hand through her hair and sighs heavily.

Fuck. Her.

Back in her bedroom, she stomps by her phone without picking it up and begins shoving things into her backpack. Her screen tells her all she needs to know, flashing with back to back texts from Will, Danny, and Elsie, as if her life needed to be anymore complicated than it already is.

It’s not like she has time to text them back. Class starts in fifteen minutes and she hardly has time to breathe let alone answer a goddamn phone.

She leaves it on the floor, the walls shaking as she slams the door on the way out.

 

~~~

 

The students of Silas Academy aren’t entirely ignorant of the ensuing feud between Laura Hollis and Carmilla Karnstein. Carmilla’s antagonisms are hardly news, of course, but coupled with the curiosity of the mysterious newcomer, and the sheer frequency with which the two butt heads, the drama has become the most interesting thing on campus since the gym developed its own ecosystem. 

Which is why, when Carmilla strides through the doors of the Robespierre building in her best black, like a queen mourning the very courtier she’s just assassinated, all eyes immediately turn to Laura. 

It’s these moments that make her wish she’d just stayed in bed.

Laura straightens up almost on instinct when Carmilla comes into view. Her breath catches in her throat, every muscle tensing, as she takes in the new and improved version of her rival. Jeez, Laf was right, this is a whole new game. 

Students fly out of Carmilla’s way, pressing themselves against the wall to escape. Most of them remain to watch the drama unfold, a hush and a stillness falling over the crowd that teachers can only envy. Carmilla doesn’t slow for even a second, gliding toward Laura with speed that shouldn’t be possible in such high heels. 

And yet Laura can’t unsee what she saw.

Under the layers, under the sharp strides and the defiant posture, the girl with the soft, curious eyes is still there. Laura sucks in a breath. It’s not too late. She can still fix this. 

Without another thought she steps away from the wall and in front of Carmilla. 

“Carmilla, I-”

Their shoulders collide painfully as Carmilla shoves passed her. Laura gasps in surprise, stumbling out of the way as Carmilla disappears into their first period classroom. She doesn’t even glance at Laura, like she never even saw her standing there at all. Laura reaches up and touches her aching shoulder, her eyes glued to the doorway. 

Perry doesn’t waste any time coming forward and inspecting the injury, clicking her tongue like a dissatisfied mother the whole time. Laf glares at the whispering crowd until they begin to peel off into classrooms and stairwells. It only takes a total of maybe thirty seconds, but for Laura it seems like an infinity.

This is going to be harder than she thought.

“Newbie?” Laf says.

She looks back at her friends, face flushed and eyes wide.

“Are you alright dear?” Perry asks.

“Yeah, I just, I mean I thought she would at least let me apologize,” she mumbles.

Laf shakes their head, “I’m telling you, your best bet is to run for the hills.”

“Oh hush! Don’t listen to them, dear. It will just take some time is all. Give her some space for the next few days and I’m sure she’ll come around,” Perry interjects.

“Really? Your solution is to make the best of it?”

“LaFontaine, we must remain civil. It was one little accident. There’s no need to start a war over it or anything.”

“A bomb would work better. Like a stink bomb. I could hook you up.”

Laura shakes her head and sighs loudly, “No, I’ll just… deal with it for now. Thanks, though.”

The two of them nod in support and hurry off to their classes. Laura realizes the two minute bell has already rung and steps into the classroom. It takes her a split second to realize that Carmilla isn’t at her usual desk. Instead she’s lounging in the back row, her face turned upwards as if the ceiling contains the day’s notes. 

Mattie gives her a peculiar look when Laura walks in, a cross between pity and curiosity, and turns back to the board to finish writing the homework. Laura sinks into her chair and tries her hardest to focus, blocking out the whispers and the dull pain in her shoulder as best she can. When Mattie turns back around to begin the lesson, any indication that she cares for her sister’s affairs is gone. 

Laura appreciates it, really she does, but she still can’t focus.

The empty desk next to her is worse than Carmilla’s annoying habits ever were.

 

~~~

 

Carmilla heads straight to the bathroom after class, declining to wait for Mattie to release them much less the bell to ring. It’s empty when she slips through the door and she sighs in relief. Just what she’d been hoping for. Now she can have one moment of peace before her next class.

The bell rings faintly in the hall as she locks herself in the very last stall. She listens to the far off sounds of students spilling in the hall, her body relaxing what seems like one muscle at a time. Being in class with Laura had been much more aggravating than she thought it would be. Carmilla had actually felt sorry for her at one point, watching her sit hunched over in her chair quietly for the entire period. Not that they ever argued much in Mattie’s class, due to the fact that Carmilla knew she’d get chewed out if she ruined Mattie’s lessons plans to pursue her silly little feud.

Still, Laura had been acting differently, and Carmilla couldn’t help wanting to know why.

The door to the bathroom opens and closes, two voices echoing loudly in the small space. Carmilla cringes. Perfect.

“She totally flipped out. It was weird. Like, I want to know what happened between them ‘cause clearly there’s some sort of twisted backstory, y’know?”

“I can’t believe she just walked out on you.”

“She never texted me back either. What an asshole.”

Carmilla opens the door to the stall and leans against the flimsy plastic. It takes Elsie and her friend a moment to catch sight of her, but when they do they both go pale.

“Did you ever consider that perhaps you just weren’t that good?” Carmilla asks.

“Oh, please. You were into it and you know it,” Elsie says, “And you definitely owe me an apology, too.’

“Come on, sweetheart. You and I both know that sometimes we have to fake it till we make it, don’t we?” 

Elsie scoffs, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what everyone is going to believe when I tell them how scared you were that Laura saw us. What, do you have like, a crush on her or something?”

“Trust me, I’m more likely to develop a murder habit than feelings where Laura is concerned. But I guess you can tell people what you like. After all, I’m sure everyone will believe you once they find out you’re the one who sent those unsolicited nudes to the entire soccer team,” Carmilla drawls.

“How did you-”

“I have a twin, remember?” 

Elsie looks like she’s seen a ghost. She opens her mouth to say something but instantly thinks better of it. Instead she grabs her friend by the arm and they quickly vacate the premises. 

Carmilla sighs and heads to the sink to wash her hands. Of course she had to run into her of all people. The universe just couldn’t give her a break even once. If word got out about what had happened, her reputation would be even more damaged than it already was. Eventually, the news would get back to mother.

Eventually, she’d be completely screwed.

Carmilla jumps at the sound of the door swinging open again, this time revealing a very apprehensive Laura. Carmilla growls audibly and slams her hand down on the handle of the faucet to turn it off. Laura flinches and subsequently steels herself.

“I want to apologize,” she says firmly.

“Oh, really? Have you finally learned how to knock?” Carmilla asks.

“Carmilla, can we please talk like normal people for five seconds?” 

“Why? The damage is done, isn’t it?”

Laura bites her lip and shakes her head, “I’m really, really sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have just… I’m sorry.”

“While I appreciate the effort, I can’t accept an apology that pathetic,” Carmilla snorts.

“You don’t mean that. This isn’t the real you!” Laura tries again.

A tremor goes through Carmilla at the words. Not real, another crack in her facade.

“Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but this is as real as it gets. The faster you accept that, the faster this will be over.”

“Carmilla, come on! I know what I saw, okay? I know that there’s a part of you that is just as sick of all this fighting as I am.”

Carmilla looks up at her, eyes narrowing. If it hadn’t been for Laura, Elsie never would have threatened to tell the school what happened. If it hadn’t been for Laura, everything Carmilla had worked so hard for wouldn’t be at stake. 

Something inside her tells her she’s going too far, that Laura doesn’t deserve this, that something about Laura is different, but she doesn’t care. She’s been burned before, hasn’t she? Just because a girl has a pretty face and an intriguing look about her, doesn’t make it a good idea.

“I think it’s pretty clear you know fuck all, cupcake. Not about this, not about my life, and definitely not what it’s going to take to survive at Silas Academy,” she hisses. 

Before Laura can think of a response, Carmilla is brushing past her and out the door.

It’s not like anything Laura has to say is going to change Carmilla’s mind anyway.

She’s made her decision.

 

~~~

 

It doesn’t take long for Carmilla’s new tactics to reveal themselves. For the most part, she simply refuses to acknowledge that Laura exists. Nothing Laura says or does has the slightest effect on her, whether they’re in class or at the dorms or anywhere in between. 

Which would have been fine, if Carmilla wasn’t also rubbing it in every single chance she got.

She answers questions Laura has already answered. She talks just loudly enough that Laura can hear every word. She brushes past Laura in the hallway despite there being more than enough room for her to avoid Laura entirely. In the dorms her music is always just loud enough for it to come through the wall, but not enough for anyone to complain. At dinner she starts sitting at the table next to the gang’s usual spot, sometimes dragging Will along, sometimes Danny, though Danny is less appealing because she refuses to be a dick, something Will is entirely too happy to do.

Suffice to say, it’s driving Laura absolutely crazy. 

All she’d wanted was to make things better. Hell, she’d tracked Carmilla into the bathroom just to apologize. Now it’s been four days and she has absolutely nothing to show for it.

Why can’t she ever do anything right?”

By lunch on Thursday Laura is exhausted. Classes are starting to pick up, midterms are in full swing, her dad is still in and out of touch, and Carmilla’s antics leave her zero time to relax. As a result, she’s unusually quiet, opting to push her food around on her plate instead of actually eating it.

Though, to be fair, she might not have eaten it either way.

“Do they seriously expect us to eat this?” Laf asks, poking at a hamburger with thinly veiled skepticism. 

“It appears they do. I’ll need to go into town for more groceries, I think,” Perry says, artfully rearranging her salad into something that actually looks edible. She starts in on Laf’s burger next, cutting off the burnt edges and removing the majority of the spoiled greens. JP hands his plate over without question, nudging Laura to do the same. 

On the table next to them, a chicken clucks helpfully. Laf stares at it, unimpressed.

“Why aren’t we eating you?” they ask, “It’s not like anyone is going to miss seven incarnations of evil walking around this campus. Especially after what happened to the bean bag chairs in the lounge last week.”

“The chickens are primarily for eggs, Lafontaine,” Perry sighs, “While the chickens are responsible for a great many questionable things, our food is not one of them.”

“It’s all the stupid budget cuts. Whoever made the decision to build a new campus with all of our funding has clearly never heard of math,” Laf scoffs. 

“I heartily agree. The library just put holds on all it’s new purchases, including textbooks, because the school’s accounts are barely able to pay for necessities,” JP adds.

“Hopefully things will improve after the annual fundraiser next term. That has always kept the school running before,” Perry says. 

“As long as they get the new campus done in time, we should be able to survive. Until then, we suffer,” Laf sighs.

“Yes, as long as they don’t also cut the scholarships again,” JP mutters. Laura looks up in surprise, the fog of the last couple of days receding just enough for her to function with a burst of adrenaline. 

“What do you mean, cut the scholarships? I thought they were privately funded?”

“Well, yeah, but a lot of the people who fund them are moving their money over to operations now that the school is in so much debt. Scholarships are great, but if the school closes then they’re sort of useless,” Laf explains.

“So we might…”

“Have to leave Silas? Yep, the three of us and dozens of other kids who can’t really afford it.”

Laura stares at her plate. Her dad had worked so hard to get her in, and as much as she disliked the current state of affairs, Silas is the only place she has anymore. Not that that means much but… still. Her friends are here. Her new life, no matter how much it sucks, is here.  She was just starting to fit in and now they might all have to leave?

“I think I’m going to head to class,” she mumbles. She stands and collects her things, all the while trying to figure out what she’s going to tell her dad. If he even picks up, of course.

“Hey, don’t worry, okay? We’re not going to let that happen,” Laf says.

“Yeah, of course not,” Laura agrees. It’s clear her heart isn’t in it, and Laf opens their mouth to convince her, stopping when Perry’s hand lands on their arm.

“If you need anything you know where to find us,” she says warmly. Laura nods and heads for the door, dumping her uneaten food in the bins on the way. It takes her a minute to figure out what class she has next, but soon she’s on her way across campus.

It takes Laura a lot longer to reach the Robespierre building than it usually does. She’d walked around the quad instead of through it, opting to stroll for a bit under the trees near the fence. It clears her head a bit, which, while it doesn’t solve the problem, still helps to relieve some of the pressure. The only downside is that when she finally returns, most of the students have returned from lunch. So much for getting to class before anyone else.

She’s on her way up the front steps when she spots Danny talking with some girls from the team at the top. She waves and Danny walks over to meet her at the doors.

“Hey, how are you holding up?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I haven’t had Lit with Carmilla yet, so she’s only managed to alienate me a total of three times since breakfast, which is a relatively low number compared to yesterday and the day before that and the-”

“All right, I get it!” Danny laughs, “Stupid question.”

“No, it’s not that, I’m just… Are you sure you can’t talk to her for me?” Laura pleads.

“I tried. Not the worst reaction she’s ever had to something I did, but it’s up there,” Danny says.

Laura groans, her shoulders slumping as they enter the building and head for the second floor. At least math is easy. No one will notice if she spends the whole period staring out the window. Hell, it’s doubtful anyone will even be awake.

They’re just stepping into the second floor hall when Laura sees her, a flash of dark hair and darker sunglasses carving through the throng of students like a shark through water. Danny sees her too, but instead of waving she turns to Laura and smiles.

“So enough about our resident grump, what else is going on?”

“Oh, the usual. Laf says they might cut our scholarships and now I have to figure out how to tell my dad that his great plan to send me to a prestigious school with strict safety policies might fail spectacularly,” Laura sighs, trying to ignore Carmilla coming down the hallway toward them as well as Danny. Danny does have years of practice, after all. 

“Wow, that’s… you really are having a shitty month, huh?” Danny jokes gently.

“Understatement of the century,” Laura says, “But Perry says it will probably be fine so maybe I won’t have to tell him anything. God, I hope I don’t have to tell him anything. If I can just stay positive and make the best of things, maybe that will be enough.”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Carmilla against the wall outside the classroom a few feet away. There’s a smirk playing on her lips, the sunglasses preventing Laura from knowing where exactly Carmilla is looking. 

“Killer optimism there, Hollis,” Danny says, nodding in agreement. Laura smiles faintly, turning so Carmilla is entirely out of view. 

“I don’t know, I guess I’ve just always tried to see the best in things. My mom always said we deserved every bit of happiness we could find, and it stuck with me, y’know?

Behind them Carmilla snorts loudly. 

“Useless,” she mutters under her breath, another sly smile breaking across her face. Laura looks over her shoulder, her brow knit in disbelief.

Useless. Carmilla had called her mother’s advice  _ useless. _

“Yeah well it’s better than thinking the entire world revolves around me and my crappy attitude,” she snaps back. Her skin feels hot and tight, like if she doesn’t move or speak she might explode. How dare Carmilla say her mother’s words were useless? She had no idea what her family had gone through, hell, what they were  _ still  _ going through.

She isn’t expecting Carmilla to react, much less step forward and respond, but the next thing she knows, those dark eyes are fixed on her own.

“Like believing the world is some magical fairytale filled with hope and kindness is any better? One of these days, you’re going to get eaten alive, cupcake,” Carmilla drawls, “At least I can take care of myself.”

“And I can’t? I’ve been here for three weeks and I already know more people than have probably ever liked you in your entire life. Is it worth it Carmilla, knowing that everyone hates you?”

The words are like poison. Laura utters them with so much vitriol and disgust they might as well be bullets. She is so tired of caring, of constantly holding back because of some stupid morality that only gets her in more and more trouble. Carmilla wants to play rough? Fine.

Carmilla’s face falls into disbelief, her mouth tightening into a dangerous frown that most people had only seen once or twice in their entire lives.

“Wow, I didn’t think you had it in you. Looks like Daddy’s little princess has finally cracked, huh? You think you’re better than me? Well I have news for you, sweetheart; it takes two to tango. You’ve made my life hell just as much as I have yours, if not more aggravating due to your insipid philosophy. What ever fucking happened to you that makes you think you understand any kind of real pain, huh? I bet you’ve never suffered a single day in your perfect little life. I-”

Every word out of Carmilla’s mouth is like an arrow sinking into Laura’s chest. Every question tightening around her heart, her blood running cold in her veins as the world falls away and all she is left with is Carmilla’s voice slowly growing louder and louder until the hall is silent. Her teeth grind, her fists shake, and all of a sudden she can’t stay silent any longer.

“My mother’s fucking dead,” she yells, cutting Carmilla off in the middle of her sentence. There’s a quiet gasp behind Laura. Carmilla stops, mouth hanging open, the stunned silence swallowing everything. 

Slowly, the world comes back. A murmur begins in the ranks of students that grows louder and stronger. Everyone is looking at them. Teachers are standing in the doors to their classrooms in utter shock. Laura’s face flushes, her chest heaving. Oh god, what has she done?

She turns like she’s in a dream, heading back for the stairs and the world outside that isn’t full to the brim with Carmilla and a million staring faces. 

“Laura…” Danny says, reaching after her. Laura shakes Danny off and continues, forcing herself not to cry until she’s outside, until she’s alone, until no one can see how weak and messy she is. 

Carmilla doesn’t move, her eyes wide with fear. She’d never imagined… All those times she’d overheard Laura on the phone leaving messages for her dad… The crying…

Oh fuck, what has she done?


	7. Chapter 7

Carmilla leans over the railing of the retaining wall and stares out at the lake. The water lies still and heavy in its basin, the dull clouds above making the surface flat and dark. Behind her the campus is sleeping, waiting for Monday and a new week of classes to bring it to life. 

Laura hadn’t been in class Friday. 

She hadn’t been at dinner, either. 

After their fight, Carmilla had gone back to her room and typed “Laura Hollis” into Google. The only thing that came up was a middle school newspaper article on the literacy club with a big photo of a tiny Laura on the front page. Beneath the photo the description read, “Laura Hollis, daughter of world-renowned journalist Samantha Hollis, enjoys the literacy club because it helps her find new books at her reading level.” Carmilla had snorted at that. They made it sound like it helped her keep her grades up or something, even though Laura had read at a college level for years. 

Marketing, ya gotta love it. 

She’d stared at the picture for a long time and then backspaced and typed “Samantha Hollis” into the search bar. The first ten results were all from major newspapers; small obituaries or back page articles on what Carmilla immediately gathered from the headlines was a “horrible accident.”

_ Car hit the safety railing at 60 mph... New vehicle not prone to failure… Driver was thrown from the car on impact… injuries severe… potential suicide deemed “technical failure” by police after investigation of skid marks on Victoria Mt. Pass… Car computer couldn’t be salvaged for record of the crash… Sam is survived by her daughter Laura, and her husband… _

She closed the articles one right after the other, her hands clenched on top of her keyboard. How had she not known? No wonder Laura was so angry about what she’d said. Perfect life… what had she known?

Three days later and the guilt festering in her gut seems immovable.

Carmilla sighs and scuffs her shoes against the concrete wall preventing her from falling head first into the lake. The water laps gently against it, breaking into ripples and bubbles. All this time, Carmilla thinks as she watches the tiny waves, and Laura never said a single thing.

If Carmilla closes her eyes and concentrates, she can picture the Silas grounds with unnerving accuracy. Behind her the courtyard stretches the entire width of the campus, flanked on either side by the Robespierre building and Hawthorne Hall, and ending with the parking lot. If she were to turn around at this very moment, she would be able to just make out the wrought iron gate on the other side of the great expanse, the words Silas Academy preserved in wrought iron above it.The dorms and the dining hall are behind Hawthorne, aptly titled “the village”, with the gym and the library on the other side behind the Robespierre, which is also the direction the new campus is being built, just a dozen yards into the trees.

If she turns left and follows the wall she has two options: take the stairs down to the beach and the school pier, or take the path out past the dining hall and through the woods to the shed she’d found. From there she might continue on to the little cove where she swims, though it’s currently too cold to do so. If she turns right and follows the shoreline, it will take about fifteen minutes to reach the shunned house, and another twenty to stumble upon the party house. Neither are things she’s very likely to do.

And somewhere in the middle of it all is Laura. Most likely in her room, though even that is up for debate at this point. Carmilla hadn’t heard Laura at all for the last two days. She’d even texted Danny and forced her to come by, but Laura hadn’t answered. It was like she’d just disappeared into thin air, whisked away by the fall winds and the words Carmilla had allowed to pass her lips.

Footsteps pull Carmilla from her thoughts. She turns and raises an eyebrow at her brother, as languid and uninterested as ever.

“You thinking about jumping in for a swim or something? I called your name like three times,” Will says.

“Some of us have important things on our minds. Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to understand something you have no personal experience with,” she replies.

“Wow, ouch. Maybe you shouldn’t be saying that to the guy who just risked life and limb to get you your favorite whiskey.” He pulls the bottle out of his bag and dangles it in front of her face. 

Carmilla rolls her eyes and snatches it from him, tossing a hundred dollars in his face just to get even. Will grabs the money and counts it out, his grin only widening.

“See, this is why you’re my favorite customer.”

“All we’re doing is moving mother’s money back and forth,” Carmilla reminds him. Will shrugs and settles in next to her.

“Everyone’s talking about you and the new girl, y’know.”

“Of course they are. Haven’t you noticed those angsty twits have nothing better to do?”

“I heard you went full rage-machine on her. Made her cry and everything.”

“Technically she did that to herself.”

“Because Laura basically shouted off the rooftops that her mom died? I’m amazed she had it in her to be honest. Elsie said that’s probably why Laura is so weird.”

Carmilla scoffs and turns back to the lake, her eyes tracking small ripples on the surface of the water, “Elsie is just pissed I didn’t get her off.”

“Do you think mom is going to chew you out for ‘making a mess of the family image’?” Will raises his hands to form air quotes at the same time he mimics their mother’s propaganda.

“Probably. She lectures me on everything else, doesn’t she?”

“You know you could always just agree with her one time. Just once, to get it over with and be free forever,” Will says.

Carmilla snorts, “That’s not how freedom works, kid.”

She tucks the whiskey into her bag and slouches towards the dorms. She’s supposed to meet Danny for dinner and she’d rather talk to her than explain to Will why agreeing with Mother one time isn’t going to change anything.

“Why are you always like this?” Will yells after her. 

Carmilla flips him off.

The walk to the dining hall is short and not altogether unpleasant. Without Will rambling on about useless gossip, Carmilla can once again focus on more important things. The cold is starting to settle in again, the light fading from the sky faster and faster as the sun sets and the mists creep back across the lake. She’s probably late for dinner, which does not bode well for her chances of getting information about Laura out of Danny. 

She’s just crossing the main thoroughfare into dining hall territory when she sees two familiar gingers and a brunette with a person squished between them. Carmilla slows down immediately, her grip on her bag loosening. 

Laura.

She has her head down and arms wrapped around herself, but it’s still obvious that it’s her. Her unique friends aren’t exactly helpful in that regard, but perhaps Carmilla would have recognized her anyway. Perhaps she would always recognize Laura, no matter the circumstance. 

Carmilla watches them cross the grass and turn towards the sidewalk, not entirely aware that she’s stopped walking. Laf sees her first, their eyes widening and darting quickly to Perry. Perry puffs up like a mother hen and begins to herd everyone away, which is enough for Laura to realize something is going on and look up.

Carmilla is nothing resembling prepared. 

Laura looks tired and sad, her expression dull, her movements slow and listless. She stares at Carmilla for a moment and then looks away, allowing herself to be hurried towards the dorms without fuss. Carmilla watches slack-jawed as they disappear around the corner of the building. 

It’s like Laura has just given up. 

Carmilla drags her feet the rest of the way to the dining hall and takes her time filling her plate. Something heavy has settled in her chest, something sad and guilty and final. She can’t even find the energy to be frustrated, to be angry about the way things have turned out. She’d made a terrible mess, and there was no way to take it all back.

Danny is already at their regular table, her bright red ponytail catching Carmilla’s eye from all the way across the room. When she sits down, Danny raises an eyebrow at her and smiles gently. She’s lucky that Danny hasn’t just written her off completely as a cold-hearted asshole, let alone that Danny still has so much sympathy for her. 

God, she doesn’t deserve this.

“You saw her didn’t you?” Danny asks.

“Unfortunately,” Carmilla murmurs. Danny tilts her head and nods knowingly.

“She’ll bounce back. This is Hollis we’re talking about. She could probably live through the apocalypse.”

“Doesn’t matter. The rumors, the gossip... Even if she recovers, no one will ever forget what I did to her.”

“Okay, fine, there’s nothing you can do about that, but you can apologize and stop being a dick all the time,” Danny says, reaching over to steal a few fries.

“Like that would make a difference. Besides, I don’t apologize, remember?”

“No, you just don’t apologize like a normal person. Which you should, by the way. The guilt is literally written all over your face.”

“Even if she accepted my apology, which she won’t, I can’t risk anyone thinking…”

“Jeez, how many times do I have to tell you this? Apologizing is not a weakness!” Danny sighs in exasperation and begins to gather her things.

“Look, I get that you’re all messed up over this, really, I do. But not apologizing? Not an option. You need to apologize to Laura or things will only get worse. She’s not going to think you’re weird or weak or whatever. She’s just going to think you’re halfway decent and not entirely self-centered, which is true at least once every few weeks so it’s really not that far off.”

Carmilla sighs and pushes her food around on her plate. She knows Danny is right. She probably should have gone over and apologized days ago, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Laura is different, terrifying and unsettling in the most confusing way. Carmilla doesn’t know what to say, much less how to approach her. 

“Look, if you decide to talk to her, text me after. Practice is probably going to go late if Mel has anything to do with it.”

“Fine, mom.”

“Asshole.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Danny rolls her eyes, smirks, and steals one more fry before jogging over to a group of her teammates standing by the front door. Carmilla huffs softly and nibbles at her dinner, turning the dilemma over in her mind until it’s old news. 

There’s no way around it. She has to face the music eventually.

Even if it kills her.

Carmilla takes the back way on her return from the dining hall, slipping in through the maintenance door with the key she’d pawned off of Will freshman year. She doesn’t particularly want to deal with all the idiots hanging around the common room or announce to the world that she’s back in the building. The fact that she and Laura live next door to each other is already extremely over-analyzed. The last thing she needs is a bunch of the gossip-mongers hanging out in the hallway waiting for something crazy to happen, especially while she’s attempting to make amends with the one person who doesn’t need all the obnoxious attention.

The back hall leads around to the laundry room and the fire stairs, which are technically off limits. Carmilla has never paid much attention to limits, especially after the fire alarm broke last year and no one ever fixed it. A little creativity with the lock at the beginning of the term had guaranteed the door would always be open, and she’d used it regularly ever since.

She passes the lobby without trouble and is just turning the corner to the laundry room when she hears soft swearing and the rattling of a door. She shrinks back, looking around the corner ever so gracefully to inspect the culprit. 

To be honest, she probably should have known.

Laura is standing at the back door to the laundry room, her basket of clothes at her feet, jiggling the doorknob and mumbling inaudibly under her breath. It’s a little known secret that the back door requires a very specific sequence of events to open, a sequence that Laura clearly has no knowledge of. Carmilla sighs and runs her hand through her hair. She cannot believe she’s about to do this.

She steps out of the shadows and approaches at a slow and steady pace. If she scares Laura to death her entire plan is effectively ruined, so she figures caution is her best option. Luckily Laura seems to be on the look-out. She catches sight of Carmilla almost instantly, her eyes growing wide and her body tensing in preparation for some kind of fight. Carmilla puts her hands up to show she comes in peace and gestures to the door.

“Need some help?”

Laura blinks, her face scrunching up in confusion, “Uh, yes?”

Carmilla smiles and steps forward to take Laura’s place. Laura backs up to give her room, eyeing the door intently as Carmilla turns the knob, lifts, and then bumps it firmly with her hip. The door opens smoothly, illuminating the hall with the light from the laundry room. Laura steps forward, squinting in the sudden brightness, until Carmilla pulls the door closed again. Laura’s face immediately falls but Carmilla steps away before she can assume too much and gestures at the door again.

“Now you,” she explains. Laura steps forward uncertainly and grasped the doorknob, her face scrunched up in intense concentration. She follows Carmilla’s example with almost 100% accuracy, the door sliding open after only a momentary struggle.

“Congratulations,” Carmilla murmurs, “Now you can get in whenever you want. Wouldn’t have done you much good if you always needed someone to do it for you.”

Laura looks back at her, brow furrowed and lips parted like she wants to say something. Carmilla waits longer than she normally would, but after a few seconds of complete silence she swallows, smirks softly and turns to go.

“Wait! I.. thank you,” Laura says.

“Don’t mention it, cupcake. It’s the least I can do.”

She doesn’t bother to stay around for some heartfelt conclusion to their epic rivalry. She’s done her part, made amends, and fixed what she could. 

Besides.

If she looks into Laura’s eyes again she might do something she regrets more than ruining Laura’s life. 

She uses the fear to propel her up the three flights of stairs and hallway with mixed success. The nagging sense that there’s something more to Laura is back, along with a strange urge to go down to the laundry room and just… well, she isn’t sure what. She just knows it has to do with Laura. 

She’s so preoccupied ignoring the inconvenient urge that she doesn’t notice her door is unlocked until it’s too late. She freezes halfway into her room, her bag hovering over her bed. Her mother is sitting in her chair, hands clasped loosely on her lap and a vaguely disinterested smile on her face like her presence in the dorms isn’t completely unheard of.

Carmilla immediately sifts through her most recent memories, trying desperately to figure out which indiscretion her mother is about to chastise her for. There’s no doubt she’s heard about Laura and the fight. Half the staff are in her pocket and more than a few parents have difficulty keeping their mouths shut. But something like that wouldn’t necessarily warrant such an impromptu visit. Discomfort, yes; terror, no.

“Good evening, dear. I thought you would have been back much earlier in order to study,” her mother says.

“I’ve already finished my work this weekend,” Carmilla mumbles, setting her bag gently on her bed and shutting the door behind her. She keeps her eyes fixed on the carpet and the large paint splotch in the center of the room. Mother responds best when she’s submissive, even better if Carmilla looks at her like she might actually love her, but it seems too late for that now. 

“Really? Well, I wouldn’t have guessed that, considering your grade on your literature midterm.”

Her mother extracts a series of handwritten pages from her briefcase sitting at her side and displays them for Carmilla to see. A graciously flamboyant 81 is written in red on the front page, followed by a plethora of red dashes and x’s amongst Carmilla’s handwriting.

Oh fuck.

“The material was… more difficult than I anticipated,” Carmilla says quickly. 

Not that her distraction over Laura had exactly aided her in completing the test on time. In fact, the memory of sitting in that room, more concerned with Laura’s empty desk than the sheets of paper in front of her, is still particularly vivid. It’s no wonder she’d done so badly. God, she was only one slip from getting a C. Why hadn’t she tried to focus?

“Or perhaps you haven’t been paying as much attention to your work as you should have been. I heard all about your games this term, darling. I have to say I am not impressed. I thought I’d taught you better than to go around taunting people in public. If you’re going to have a rivalry you need to keep it to yourself. Out in the open you’re at risk for all kinds of allegations. Honestly, what if you’d wanted to poison the little… civilian? You cannot get things done if everyone within a five mile radius knows what you aim to do, and especially not if it gets in the way of your school work. We must be patient, dear girl, or nothing will ever rightfully come our way,” her mother chastises.

“Yes, mother.”

“Anyway, whoever you’re toying with is barely a priority. You cannot let your GPA fall below a 3.9. Do you understand what a disgrace that would be? What would I tell people? You are my beautiful, talented heir. Without you to take over your share of the company all of this will be for nought. I already wasted enough time on one bad seed, and you have too much potential to betray me like your dear sister did.”

“I’ve already convinced the girl to… resolve our differences,” Carmilla assures her, “It won’t happen again.”

“That remains to be seen. I must admit I am surprised I haven’t gotten more reports of you visiting with Mattie. I thought for sure I would need to lecture you on that as well. Which is why I’m giving you a second chance.”

Her mother rises and collects her things, brushing by Carmilla on the way to the door without quite looking at her. Carmilla moves out of the way accordingly, rolling the hem of her skirt between her fingers. Her mother pauses only inches away, reaching out to turn Carmilla’s face to meet the light.

“You’ve always been my perfect, exceptional child, my darling, but you must take control of your emotions. You cannot care so much about trivial things like teenage rivalries and art. I let you indulge in these frivolities because I’m your mother and I love you, but honestly, the rest of the world will see your emotional tendencies as a weakness. You must make yourself strong or this place will rip you apart without a second thought. One day I won’t be here to protect you, and then you must protect yourself,” her mother says. 

“Yes, mother. I understand.”

Her mother makes a tutting noise and shakes her head, “If only that were true, darling.”

She moves to the door and opens it in one smooth movement, “One day, perhaps, but you cannot lie to your mother.”

When she’s finally gone, Carmilla sits down on her bed and leans against the wall. She lets her head fall back with a dull thud, her hand covering her eyes as she tries to regulate her breathing. How could she have been so stupid? Now her mother’s eyes would be on her every second.

She’s not expecting any sort of response from the sound of her head against the wall, so the two soft knocks that come through from Laura’s room startle her into an upright position. She stares at the wall, not entirely sure she heard what she thought she heard, but then they come again, two soft knocks just to the side of where she’d been resting.

Carmilla considers ignoring them, but she has a sneaking suspicion that Laura will just knock again if she doesn’t respond. Had she heard what her mother had said? Carmilla can’t think of another reason she’d knock, honestly. She wouldn’t just want to communicate for no reason. Was she trying to offer comfort? Or simply get Carmilla’s attention?

Carmilla knocks back twice, hers much sharper and heavier than Laura’s. There’s a pause and then one final knock. Carmilla knocks back again, this time a slow smile creeping across her face. It is satisfying to know that Laura hears her, to know that Laura is listening.

With that in mind she gets to work, drawing out her painting supplies and arranging her space on the floor. 

This time she paints a girl with hollow eyes and a mouth dripping blood, the closest she can come to the assignment while her mind drifts in and out of inspiration...

On the other side of the wall, Laura sits on her couch and looks out her window at the darkness. She hasn’t bothered to turn the light on. She’ll just be leaving again to get her laundry and then probably go to bed. In the meantime, Laura considers the snippets of conversation she’d heard from Carmilla’s room. It wasn’t like she’d meant to listen in, but the walls are thin and it isn't’ exactly like she could help it, right?

And Carmilla hadn’t immediately come over and killed her, so it’s probably okay. 

It’s more than crystal clear now that Carmilla’s mother is a piece of work, which totally explains Carmilla’s attitude. Not that it’s an excuse or anything but… still. Maybe that’s why she’d been so defensive about Laura walking in on her. It definitely sounded like image was everything to them, and if Carmilla thought that was being threatened…

It just makes sense, is all.

Not that she’s completely forgiven Carmilla. That will take a lot more than an outrageously strict mother and a good deed to fix. 

Laura sighs and touches the locket at her throat. She doesn’t know how she can forgive her. She’d come to Silas to escape all the stares and whispers, and now it would all just start over again the same as before. Despite how much she wants to forgive Carmilla, how much she wants all of it to be over, that’s not an option anymore.

It’ll only be a matter of time before everyone knows. They’ll look up the articles and the news reports and all she can do is watch.

So much for starting over.

 

~~

 

Morgana Dean, fresh from her meeting with the more rebellious of her twins, answers her phone on the way to her car. 

“Ms. Dean speaking.”

The voice on the other end asks a question, perhaps two, and begins to spiral into a few other interesting details that may or may not be related.

“Yes, I understand perfectly my friend. I’ll be there as soon as I can. And remember, this place is still occupied at the moment. Your discretion is highly advised.”

Morgana Dean opens her car door, retrieves something from the glove box, a small, black cylinder, and shuts the door again. The voice on the phone continues describing a myriad of choice imagery, expressing a growing interest in the business at hand with ever-increasing frequency.

“Didn’t I tell you I had the most amazing connection? Now then, hang up the phone and let me come to you.”

She hangs up before the lengthy farewell is barely begun and starts in the direction of the academic buildings. She supposes she could drive over, but the security guards are more likely to notice her car in the faculty lot than the student lot. Besides, why not get some fresh air?

Everything she needs is right here, after all.


	8. Chapter 8

With Monday come the post-midterm blues, a palpable drop in the campus energy that permeates the very walls of the Robespierre building. Mattie feels it the moment she steps out of her car, shivering in the October air with a knowing glance at the students piling up by the front doors. She’s glad that her practicum is the only thing she’s doing this term. Having her own tests on top of grading all of her students’ papers would have been a nightmare. 

Laden down with three dozen midterms, Mattie makes her way to the office. The halls are still relatively empty, the air thin and musty after a weekend all shut up in the old building. The sounds of her heels against the tile echoes without the noise of the students to drown it out. For just a moment she lets her guard down, breathing in the atmosphere around her like she’s fifteen and still belongs within Silas’ walls. 

It would be silly to deny she misses it, even if her time here hadn’t been the best. 

After all, the school was more her home than the penthouse had ever been.

The office is the one place in the school that isn’t deserted. In addition to a random collection of faculty, Perry is standing over the copy machine and making small talk with the secretaries. The office staff don’t pay her much mind, their cursory glances the only indication they know she’s there. No one has much to say to the student turned student-teacher who always turned her nose up at them as a teenager, Mattie supposes.

But Perry breaks the cycle, looking over as Mattie pulls her mail and announcements out of her box.

“Good morning,” she says brightly, her voice barely audible amongst the ongoing conversation. 

“Good morning,” Mattie murmurs, her smile widening even as she tries to remain neutral. Her eyes flicker back and forth between her box and Perry, who is glancing up from the copy machine every few seconds to watch her. When Mattie is finished she smiles once more, while Perry mirrors her quietly and softly.

The smile is still on her face when she walks into her tiny office and realizes it is not, in fact, empty. Carmilla is lounging rather sullenly in the chair in front of her desk, her feet propped up next to Mattie’s falcon paperweight and her eyes fixed quite forcefully on the light fixture hanging above her head.

They haven’t exactly talked since their last little conversation in the courtyard. Between Mattie’s professional attitude in the classroom and Carmilla’s frequent disappearing acts, there is little to no time to devote to repairing their relationship. Not that Mattie even expects such a thing. Her contract with their mother makes it nearly impossible to spend time together as it is. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Mattie says instinctively. If they’re caught together in her office, things could fall apart before they even know what is happening.

Carmilla doesn’t say anything at first, her eyes following the curve of the ceiling to the crown molding and down the wall before sliding over to look at Mattie.

“What did you say to mother that made her sign that contract?” she asks, her voice hoarse and dry.

“You know I can’t tell you that, Carmilla. We’ve talked about this before,” Mattie sighs, slipping behind her desk and sitting in her chair.

“I can’t keep doing this, Mattie. The closer I get to graduating from this godforsaken place, the more suffocating she becomes. You know what it’s like. Please.”

Mattie purses her lips and neatly arranges her papers on her desk. When she’s finished, she sits quietly for a moment, her fingers playing absently at the watch on her wrist. As much as she wishes she could help her sister, there’s not much she can do. The contract is tenuous as it is, and any amount of suspicious behavior could be the end of it.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, dear. What I did to force her hand won’t work twice, and it certainly won’t work with you. There are too many politics involved and mother knows you’ve never paid attention to that sort of thing in your life. Your best chance is to be patient. If she found out I helped you, we’d both suffer more than you can imagine. I know it’s difficult, but trust me, this is the best way.”

“Is that why you didn’t take me with you? Why you didn’t take either of us?” Carmilla’s voice is low and raspy, her mouth contorted into an ugly snarl.

“Carmilla, honestly… a seventeen year old trying to get custody of two fourteen year olds? When they have what the state considers a perfectly capable parent who would undeniably do whatever it took to keep them?”

Carmilla sighs and looks intently at her hands, “I know. I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I came here.”

She begins to stand but Mattie gestures for her to stay put.

“You came here because I’m the easiest person to be upset with.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know. But it’s still easier, isn’t it?”

Carmilla’s cheeks burn with shame and Mattie sighs at the necessity of it all. This isn’t the conversation that she’d thought they would have, but it seems to be the one they need one way or the other. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Carmilla says, “I don’t want to resent you for something that wasn’t your fault or buy into the crap mother is selling to Will. I just want things to be the way they were before we grew up, before we came to this school.”

“Before mother turned on us,” Mattie adds.

“I’m starting to wonder if there was a before.”

Mattie licks her lips and looks down at the work she has on her desk. She knows she shouldn’t ask. The closer she and Carmilla become the harder it will be to leave again, and the harder it will be to hide it from their mother. But she can’t ignore her sister, not when they’re so close to finally overcoming the void that’s hung between them for the last two years. She can feel Carmilla struggling to cross the distance. All Mattie needs to do is reach.

“What did she do this time?” she asks.

Carmilla looks up in surprise, her dark eyes searching Mattie’s face for some kind of reservation, some kind of opposition to her position.

“She showed up in my room. I received an unacceptable grade on my lit midterm. She’s never come that close before. I thought for sure I was going to be sent home, or somewhere worse.”

“But it’s alright?”

“She gave me the speech and went on her way,” Carmilla shrugs, “It’s next time I’m worried about. Or the time after that. I have nothing to keep her from digging into my life and taking what she wants.”

The hopelessness in her voice clicks in Mattie’s mind. She stares at Carmilla for a moment and then stands to come around the desk. 

“Laura?”

“I’m not in love with her or anything, if that’s what you’re asking,” Carmilla says quickly.

Mattie leans against her desk and raises an eyebrow at her, “And yet?”

Carmilla frowns and looks out the window at the students gathering in the grey morning, “There’s something about her, Mattie. I can’t just… I’m drawn to her in a way that I haven’t been drawn to anyone since…”

She trails off, her brow furrowed in frustration. Mattie watches her for a few more moments in case there’s anything else and then lowers her voice to practically a whisper.

“What happened with Elle will not happen again.”

“She’ll do something worse, won’t she?” Carmilla murmurs. Mattie nods, the memory of her own ill-fated love flashing through her mind. Carmilla had been a child when she met Elle, and mother had taken that into consideration. She would do no such thing in regards to Laura.

“The difference,” she says, reaching out to touch Carmilla’s shoulder, “is that this time we’re on the same side.”

Carmilla looks down at the hand resting gently on her shoulder and then up at Mattie. In an instant she’s on her feet, her arms wrapped tightly around Mattie’s torso. Mattie pets her hair gently and holds her close.

“I’m not going to let her hurt us again,” Carmilla whispers, “She can’t have us.”

“So long as we stay out of her business we should be fine,” Mattie says.

If only such a thing were possible.

  
  


~~

 

Laura survives her first two classes by keeping her head down and her books open. Even when the words blur on the page and the teacher’s voice becomes white noise, at least she can momentarily forget the stares and the whispers that follow her everywhere from the dining hall to the bathroom. 

She thinks it might be worse than the first time.

Because why not.

It’s not like life is anything but cruel, right?

Oddly enough, her one saving grace had been Carmilla. She’d walked into Mattie’s class like it was just another Monday and sat down in her usual seat next to Laura without even flinching. Laura had thought that maybe things would be a bit better, considering their little run in at the laundry room, but she’d never considered things would change so quickly. Last week Carmilla wouldn’t even come within five feet of her and now they were sitting together like it was nothing.

The gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed either. The second Carmilla sat down there was an explosion of whispers and a few not so subtle gasps. Laura, fearing the worst, shrank down in her seat. And yet the worst did not come. Instead, Carmilla had immediately turned around and stared at the rest of the kids in their class until every single murmur died out. It was like Carmilla was watching out for her or something, which makes no sense because Carmilla hates her.

Right?

Lunch is a different situation entirely. There are hundreds of people on all sides, all of them sneaking glances in her direction and whispering behind their hands. Or not, if they’re far enough away, at which point they just talk openly because they know there’s no way she can hear them. Perry, Laf, and JP try to shield her from it as much as they can, but there’s not much they can do besides distract her with weird facts and gossip, and there isn’t much gossip because it’s all about her. Yeah. Things are great.

She forgets about Carmilla mostly because she’s focused on not registering the number of people around her, and figuring out the best way to eat her burger, which looks like a hockey puck, feels like a hockey puck, and might actually, y’know, be a hockey puck. At least in all the chaos the dining hall has remained it’s good ol’ disappointing self. Who knows? Good food might have been just enough to send her into a coma or something.

They’re about halfway through the lunch period when Laura realizes there are two boys near the serving line that are staring at her. One of them is snickering while the other holds his hand in front of his face. She can’t hear them but she doubts whatever it is they’re saying is at all positive. Part of her wants to leave, find somewhere quiet and lonely, and screw them, but another part is hungry and walking out might just encourage them.

“Screw those guys,” Laf says when they notice.

“Honestly, you’d think the students here would have a bit more compassion,” Perry says, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry, it will pass,” JP reassures her, staring in blatant disappointment back at the boys. They’re still looking, not at all fazed by being found out. One of them smacks the other and gestures nonchalantly in their direction. Laura feels her blood begin to boil, but instead of getting angry she just feels like crying. Why does everyone care so much? Why is it such a big deal?

Which is when Laura catches sight of Carmilla coming in the door behind them, not particularly paying attention to the world around her. She sees Laura just as she reaches the serving line, her brow furrowing slightly before she turns and sees the two idiots laughing beside her. Carmilla follows their eyeline to Laura, her face falling. Laura shrugs at her. She’ll have to get used to it eventually right.

Carmilla has other plans. She cuts in front of them, moving swiftly up the line to where the tiny cartons of milk are stashed in a big tub of ice. She picks a few up and shakes them, selecting two after a fair number of inspections.

Oh no.

It had just recently been discovered that some of the milk had gone bad. To make matters worse, there was really no way to tell which milk without shaking and opening each carton. The staff, under the directive to waste as little as they could, decided to put it all out and let the students fend for themselves. 

Laura can’t pull her eyes away as Carmilla stomps back to the end of the line and stops right in front of the two assholes. They’re still too caught up in laughing and whispering to notice her at first, but that doesn’t matter to Carmilla. She cracks the top of the cartons open, lifts them, and pours.

Thick and chunky spoiled milk sloshes over their heads, dripping down their necks and shoulders onto the floor. It takes them a second to realize what’s happening, but once the stench hits them they start swearing and yelling. Carmilla, unimpressed, drops the cartons on the ground and steps back. She must say something, because all of a sudden their eyes are widening in fear and the other kids in line are backing away even more than before.

When she’s done she turns around and nods to Laura. Laura, in something of a shocked stupor, nods back. Carmilla, still scowling, makes one last remark to the milk-covered idiots, and disappears back outside. Seconds later one of the monitors arrives in a screeching fury, demanding to know what had happened. Slowly, everyone looks away. The boys stay silent, their eyes on the floor as they’re questioned mercilessly by the useless lunch chaperones. 

“Holy shit,” Laf says, “Carmilla just decimated those guys.”

“How peculiar. Why would she suddenly decide to defend you after weeks of mocking you herself?” JP asks.

“She’s just been, I don’t know, nice to me the last couple of days. I think maybe she feels bad,” Laura says. 

“Feels bad? Newbie, that’s like, a miracle!” Laf replies.

“Now LaFontaine, I think it’s very good that Carmilla is turning over a new leaf. Even if it is perhaps the old leaf just… pointed in a different direction,” Perry says, eyeing the continuing mess across the room.

“Of course this is good! With her on your side literally no one will cross you ever again,” Lafontaine exclaims.

“She just helped me with the laundry room door the other day and then… I don’t know, sort of stuck up for me in class? It’s just weird little stuff that will probably stop the second she decides she’s paid her dues or whatever,” Laura says. Not that she’s complaining, but, Carmilla? On her side? That’s just...

“I do hope she remains civil. She is a bright young lady and I think perhaps she could see the benefits of a truce if they were presented to her. Like her relationship with Danny,” JP says. 

Laura frowns. She’d never considered a truce. She just figured they’d go back to the way things were before the party. Why wouldn’t they? It’s not like Carmilla had gotten a personality transplant. She’s just being sort of nice. There’s no way it will last.

Perry, sensing Laura’s sudden change in mood, clears her throat and stands up.

“What happens will happen. In the meantime, we have ten minutes to get back to class and no one has their afternoon books, I believe?”

JP and Laf shoot from their chairs, the latter swearing through the periodic table with extreme fluency as they rush for the dish return and the exit. Laura smiles quickly at Perry and follows them away.

But the idea of a truce is still in her head, turning and tossing as she sits through her classes. It couldn’t be that bad of an idea. After all, Danny and Carmilla seem to sort of get along. Their fights are superficial if they happen at all, and as a bonus they help each other study.

Laura could really use a healthy dose of studying.

At the end of the day she has half her midterms back, and if the trend continues she doesn’t stand a chance at the end of the term. She’d been slipping, preoccupied by her fight with Carmilla and her slowly collapsing relationship with her father. At this rate, she’ll end up back in the city working nights to cover the cost of summer school. Heart heavy and face scrunched, she wanders to the archives for the last period of the day, trying desperately to think of a way she can avoid totally failing.

When she arrives, JP and Laf are already dusting out the shelves by the back wall. They’re almost completely done clearing things out, which means in just a few days they’ll move everything over to the library and start scanning it into the new digital archives. Downside, LaFontaine will be heading back to the science building to do their actual TA work. Upside, no more gross creepy basement cleaning. 

“Laur! Just in time to help us sort the last shelf!”

Laura sighs and drops her bag at the bottom of the stairs, “Finally. How did one little room really take us five weeks to clear out?”

“Probably a combination of procrastination and the fact we don’t actually know what we’re looking at half the time,” JP teases.

Laura rolls her eyes and helps them pull the last four boxes onto the table. There are two full of books and two full of files, all of which they have to go through one by one. Laura picks one with files, hopeful they’ll be something easy like student records or bank statements. Instead she finds herself face to face with an entire stack of what seem to be writing portfolio’s. 

“Uh, JP? Do we have something called the Young Writer’s Club?”

JP abandons his stack of 17th century manuscripts and looks over her shoulder, “Oh yes, this was a program they used to have over in Hawthorne Hall for the younger students. It was around for ages until the administration changed club rules so that teachers couldn’t start them. Too many professors were requiring students to show up for extra hours. A few years ago I and a few other students attempted to restart it. However, these files are from the original program, which was run by our art program. They’re not anything official, but you could always take them over to the art room and see if they want them.”

“Anything that doesn’t involve sorting through all these files? Sign me up,” Laura agrees. She picks up the box and carries it out, leaving JP and Laf to search through the remaining three on their own. 

They get through one and half with little trouble, but the last set of books are… well, strange.

“Why would anyone need manuals on lockpicking? I mean, cool, yes, definitely on my wishlist. But do they actually belong to someone?” Laf asks, looking over a dusty old copy.

“I wish I knew. These volumes seem entirely random,” JP says, carefully inspecting what appears to be a Victorian erotica. 

“I vote we stick them somewhere weird and pretend we never saw them,” Laf decides.

“Seconded,” JP agrees. They take the box and stuff it behind the stack of boxes they’ll be moving to the library later. There will most definitely be somewhere to dispose of them there.

They’re just finishing up with the rest when Perry appears at the bottom of the stairs with a reusable grocery bag over her shoulder. 

“Perry? Aren’t you on duty?” Laf asks.

“Unfortunately not. I was on my way out of the office this morning and I accidentally opened the door right into Damian Valentine’s face. I suppose I was a little preoccupied but I traded shifts with him to make it up to him. I have the night shift in the dorms tomorrow night.” She smiles and sets her bag on the table, “Good news, I went to the store and bought fruit and vegetables, some high protein energy balls with spirulina...”

“Holy shit real nourishment!” Laf exclaims, rushing to the front of the room to inspect the goods. They pull out a handful of apples and a bunch of bananas with childlike glee and begin to stuff their face.

“Hey, come on, sharing is caring!” JP laughs.

Laf pulls an apple out of the bunch and flings it towards JP, “Catch!”

JP squeals and tries desperately to catch the flying fruit. It sails past him and hits the wall instead, a fist sized hole appearing at just about eye-level in the sheet rock. The three of them stare at it in shocked silence. 

Apples… don’t usually go through walls?

“Lafontaine,” Perry hisses.

“Hey now, I had no idea that was going to happen,” Laf whispers back. 

“They can’t blame us can they? It was an apple! Versus a wall!” JP frets.

Lafontaine approaches the wall cautiously, putting their eye up against the hole. Through it they can see what looks like a crawl space. The other side is moldy and rotted, the beams and the wood spotted black and grey with something suspicious. 

“No worries guys, the wall is just rotted. It’s amazing we didn’t put something through it sooner to be honest.”

Perry breathes a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness. At least we can explain that.”

“Better than an apple with super powers? Definitely.” Laf looks around for a moment before remembering their backpack and the flyers for the science fair they’d conveniently packed to post around school. In seconds they have the hole patched and hidden, turning to their friends with a celebratory eyebrow wiggle.

“We should just tell them,” Perry says worriedly.

“It would be the right thing to do,” JP agrees.

“Guys come on. They’re tearing this building down in less than a year and you really want to get yelled at by Janice in the office because we put a hole through a wall no one is ever going to look at again?

“I’ve changed my mind,” JP says after a moment of consideration.

“I wasn’t here,” Perry agrees.

The three of them pack up and flee the scene. Sure there are twenty minutes left in the period, but who’s gonna know?

 

~~

 

The art room is on the first floor at the back of the building, down a little hallway that no one ever remembers is there. Laura eyes her surroundings skeptically as she passes the last vending machine. This hall is different, with a low ceilings and modern all glass windows, nothing like the wrought iron Victorian stuff everywhere else. It must have been added on after the campus was originally built, and recently, too.

At the end of the hall there is one door. Laura pokes her head inside to see if anyone is there. It’s surprising how big the room is, after such a tiny hallway, but the studio space is actually quite large. The walls are lined with shelves and drawers spilling over with bottles of paints or rolls of paper. Everything that isn’t supplies is covered in old and current paintings and pieces created by students.

Laura stiffens as her eyes fall on the only person in the room. Carmilla is sitting at one of the far tables next to the big windows, the soft winter light falling over her like a tragic contrast. She has paints and canvasses out in front of her, but instead she’s preoccupied with her arm, a thin black paintbrush twirling in her hand as she paints over ivory skin.

Laura steps further into the classroom. The box is getting heavy after a flight of stairs and a rather long hallway. She thinks that maybe she can just set it down and run, but she has no idea who the art teacher is or where to put it down. 

In the end, she isn’t quick enough. Carmilla looks up, her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline at the sight of Laura and her delivery.

“Well what do we have here?” Carmilla says, her attention turning back to the spots along her arm.

“Uh, we found this box when we were cleaning out the old archives. It’s from the old writing club that the art department used to run and JP thought the teachers might want it?”

Carmilla considers it for a minute and then nods towards the other side of the room,“You can put it over there next to those new shipment boxes on the floor.”

Laura deposits the box against the wall with the others and then stands quietly watching Carmilla work. Her arm is nearly covered in streaks of paint and all at once Carmilla pulls a canvass forward and presses the arm down onto it, rolling it back and forth with careful attention. The paint left on the canvass looks almost identical to Carmilla’s arm, a beautiful collection of streaks and spots and loose shapes clashing together on the white background. 

Laura holds her breath as Carmilla touches it up and sets it in a nearby easel. Woah.

“So are you leaving now or are you just going to stand there staring until they lock the building up?”

Laura jumps. Carmilla has moved over to the sink near her and is washing the paint off of her arm. She quirks one perfect eyebrow and dries her hands, “Well?”

“Thanks. For what you did in the dining hall.”

Carmilla smirks, “It was the least I could do.”

It’s the same thing she’d said in the hallway outside the laundry room. Laura tilts her head to the side, squinting as if that will help her figure out this weirdness she’s stumbled onto.

“So… this is, I don’t know, how you’re making it up to me?” she asks.

“Well it is my fault, isn’t it? It’s not like I’m entirely devoid of empathy,” Carmilla replies, clearing her workspace for her sketchbook.

“Why? You could just apologize and be done with it.”

Carmilla finally looks up from her work, her eyes narrowed. After a moment she sighs and begins working on what looks to be a sketch of the library’s clock tower, “Your mother died, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, in a car accident,” Laura says quietly.

“So I assumed that must be pretty shitty, and that children are cruel, and that you could use a little help with the other idiots who go to school here. Besides, I don’t apologize.”

It takes Laura a minute to process what Carmilla is saying. Laura had just assumed Carmilla was helping her because she felt bad about what happened, but Carmilla made it sound like that almost had nothing to do with it. Carmilla was helping her because…

Because it’s shitty.

“Your parents.”

Carmilla smirks, her eyes softening, “There was a fire when Will and I were three. Our father got us out and then went back for our mother. I looked up the report once I was old enough. Apparently something went wrong with the gas line.”

Carmilla didn’t just feel guilty because she’d screwed up, she’d gone to all that trouble because she understood. 

Laura walks to the table where Carmilla is sitting and sinks into one of the chairs nearby, “Do you remember them?”

“I remember my father walking away from me and into the house, and the smoke billowing out the door. Everything else is blurry and useless. I used to have a picture when I was younger, but I must have lost it. Ever since it’s just been that one moment… but then again I suppose I’m the lucky one. Will doesn’t remember anything at all.”

“I’m sorry,” Laura murmurs, her hand coming to the locket around her neck.

“You’ll have a harder time than we did. We were so young it’s almost like our lives have always been this way, living with mother, Mattie. It changed our lives forever, but that’s nothing compared to real memory,” Carmilla pauses, her eyes falling to Laura’s neck, “Is that her?”

Laura nods, popping open the locket like it’s second nature. Carmilla leans forward and gently takes the locket in her fingers.

“People probably tell you you look just like her,” Carmilla says.

“Yeah, I mean, not so much anymore, but…” Laura trails off. Leaning together like this, the chain of her locket dangling between them, Carmilla is closer than she’s ever been. 

“You’ll always look like her,” Carmilla murmurs, a soft smile crossing her lips before she leans back and picks up her pencil again.

“Thank you.”

Carmilla nods, softer than Laura has ever seen her, and begins to sketch again. Laura takes a deep breath and wills her heart to slow down, for the burning in her throat to leave her alone.

“So is this a truce?” she asks eventually.

“If that’s what you want to call it, I guess I can’t really stop you, can I?” 

“Not really,” Laura laughs, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

This time Carmilla really does smile at her, a full-blown, eye-crinkling smile.

“Get out of here before I change my mind.”

Laura does as she’s told, slipping out of the chair and heading for the door. She stops just inside of the room and turns back to Carmilla.

“I swear if you thank me again…” Carmilla starts.

“No, it’s just… it’s nice to feel like someone else gets it, y’know?”

Carmilla glances at her, shrugs, and goes back to sketching, “I suppose so.”

Laura shakes her head and wanders away, back to the office where JP and Lafontaine are waiting to make their daring escape to the after school robot club. Things are finally starting to look up.

Maybe, by some insane miracle, they’ll actually stay that way.

 


	9. Chapter 9

The library is always empty on Saturdays, leaving Carmilla free to roam the stacks unimpeded. Her study session with Danny isn’t technically for another ten minutes, even if she knows Danny is already in their usual study room waiting for her. Besides, she’s always late as it is. What’s one more time?

She walks slowly, running her fingers along the spines of the books, her thoughts distant and vague. It’s been quiet lately. Without her feud with Laura, the campus has fallen back into a dull, sullen monotony. At least most of the muttering has subsided, resulting in vast improvements to Laura’s mood. Carmilla hadn’t realized how deeply Laura had been affected by their fighting. It was almost astonishing, how bright and optimistic she could be. Of course, every once in awhile that familiar shadow will cross her face, and Laura would keep her head down until it passes. It’s to be expected. Nothing heals overnight.

They’d started talking in class, just a word here or there, a question about the homework once in awhile. Something about it seems too easy but Carmilla can’t quite put her finger on why. She’d put so much effort into hating Laura, and now it’s like they could fall into friendship without a second thought. Carmilla wouldn’t have thought it possible, but lately Laura had been seeking her out as well. She’d smile when they passed each other in the hall and wave awkwardly when she saw Carmilla looking. 

Maybe things could be different this time. After all, having a friend like Laura wouldn’t be the worst thing that ever happened to her.

Carmilla leaves the stacks and wanders to the stairs, taking them two at a time to the second floor. When she reaches the top, a flash of color draws her attention to the shelves along the right of the stairs. Laura is amongst them, walking back and forth in one particular spot like she’s on some sort of mission. Her eyes are scanning the top shelf, a frustrated frown on her lips. 

Carmilla approaches slowly, her hands shoved into her pockets accentuating her slouch.

“You looking for something, cupcake?”

Laura jumps and spins around, “Oh, hey, I… yes?”

Carmilla quirks an eyebrow at her. Laura seems to argue with herself for a few seconds before sighing in defeat.

“I need this book for my government paper but it’s all the way on the top shelf and it seemed like a lot of work to go get someone or something, so I was sort of trying to figure out if I could… y’know…”

Carmilla barely smothers a chuckle, “Climb it?”

Laura blushes and shrugs, her eyes glued to the floor. Carmilla smirks and looks up at the book she’d indicated. It’s a biography of somebody she thinks might be vaguely important but there’s no way she can get it down either. Whoever built the library clearly hadn’t considered the size of the students who would one day be using it.

“So this is why you’re five minutes later than usual.”

The two turn around to find Danny walking towards them.

Carmilla shrugs and gestures up at the shelf, “I need this book.”

Danny, unimpressed, plucks it from it’s place and hands it to to Carmilla, who turns around and immediately hands it to Laura.

“Uh, thanks…” Laura says. 

Danny rolls her eyes, “Really?”

Carmilla holds her gaze without flinching, “Clearly.”

For a moment they just stand there, looking at each other. 

“So... what are you guys doing here?” Laura asks, her hands gripping her new book awkwardly. She has a feeling she’s somehow wound up in the middle of something, but she isn’t sure what. 

“Just a study session. We’re debating lit stuff and then history,” Danny explains.

“Ugh, I definitely did not do as well on that lit midterm as I should have. You guys are so lucky you can study together,” Laura says.

“Well, what are you doing right now? You could always stay and study with us.” Danny says.

Carmilla’s heart jumps in her chest. Of course Laura should study with them. Why hadn’t she thought of that? They’re in the same class for fuck’s sake.

Laura seems to be having the same train of thought, because she glances at Carmilla in surprise.

“I mean, yeah, I’d love to. Uh, I just don’t want to like, get in the way or anything? I’m sure you guys have a whole system figured out,” Laura replies anxiously. 

Danny looks to Carmilla, leaving the decision to her.

“We’re in the same class, so… You could watch us run through our routine, if you don’t want to debate.” Carmilla offers.

“Looks like you’re in, newbie,” Danny says.

She gestures for them to follow and heads in the direction of the study. Laura jumps ahead to walk at her side, Carmilla trailing behind. She watches Laura explain the parts she’d missed on the test, the way her hands fly around as she talks. Carmilla swallows and tries to slouch even farther into her coat.

Oh god she’s so screwed.

 

~~

 

There is something to be said for the sheer volume of paperwork that passes through a teacher’s hands for each and every student. It is something they’d warned her about again and again. She’d always thought they were exaggerating, or slow, or some other simple explanation, but the new and improved Mattie Belmonde can also admit, begrudgingly, when she has been completely and utterly wrong.

She’s decided that the only way she’s going to get everything done, what with 65 papers due next week and lesson plans to write, as well as her own practicum reflections and evaluations that she’s behind on, is to come in on the weekend. Bringing her work home seems like it would just be messy and inefficient, especially since she has all of her work already organized in her office. 

By two o’clock she’s finished almost everything. Her evaluations are done, her reflections are detailed and thoughtful, each assignment in her first class is graded and has notes on how to improve, and her second class is coming along nicely. She doesn’t exactly understand how she’s managed to finish so much in a mere six hours, but she isn’t about to complain.

She decides that she deserves a little break and walks out into the main office to rummage around for a new pack of sticky notes. She knows they’re being severely rationed, and the only way to get new ones is to make sure no one knows you have them. It’s odd, honestly, to see the school in such disarray, but after this term she’ll be back finishing her degree in the city and the whole semester will be a distant dream.

She feels a pang of guilt. For her, yes, Silas will once again be relegated to the past, but for Carmilla and Will, Silas will be home for another year at least. How can she possibly leave this place behind when her siblings are still trapped here? When she’d left the first time she’d assumed she’d never see them again, denied herself even the smallest amount of hope. Carmilla’s emails were few and far between and Will… well he still hadn’t forgiven her, had he? No, it had been easier to think they were lost to her. What else was she to do, when escape was the only way to ensure she wasn’t dragged into Mother’s business?

After Carmilla’s visit, however, she wishes she did know something more, that there was some way for her to help them beyond providing support. It’s difficult, what with her career involved. As frustrating as it is, she knows they just have to wait it out. It’s what she’d done, and everything had worked out better than expected. She knows the two of them will survive. Carmilla is resilient and a dreamer, the perfect defense, and Will’s arrogance could honestly take him anywhere.

Mattie is so wrapped up in her thoughts she doesn’t notice there’s someone else in the office until she’s halfway to the supply closet. She stops, surprised, and quickly finds herself entranced.

Perry is organizing student files in the filing cabinet along the wall, headphones in her ears preventing her from hearing Mattie enter. 

“Meet the latest graduate of King’s College! I prob’ly shouldn’t brag, but, dag, I amaze and astonish! The scholars say I got the same virtuosity and brains as my pops! The ladies say my brain’s not where the resemblance stops!” she raps quietly, nodding her head along with the music.

Mattie puts her hand over her mouth, a wide grin breaking across her face. 

“I’m only nineteen but my mind is older, gotta be my own man, like my father, but bolder. I shoulder his legacy with pride. I used to hear him say, that someday, I would-”

“Blow us all away?” Mattie asks loudly.

Perry nearly shoots right out of her skin. Like Mattie, she hadn’t expected anyone to be in the office on a Saturday. She quickly pulls her headphones from her ears and adjusts her posture until she’s prim and proper again.

“I… I didn’t realize anyone was here,” she says, looking down at her hands.

“Neither did I. Hamilton?”

“It’s very educational, and quite catchy,” Perry says, her voice wavering.

“I saw it several months ago. A friend and I went to New York for a week over the summer. It was quite the performance,” Mattie says gently. 

Perry relaxes at her words, smiling carefully and tucking her phone away. 

“What brings you to campus on a Saturday?” she asks. 

“Grading mostly, as well as lessons and evaluations. The glamorous life of a teacher, I suppose.”

“I still don’t understand how you went from wanting a business degree like your mother to… well, this,” Perry says, gesturing awkwardly. 

“In my first term of undergrad I took a history class to fulfill a general education requirement and… well, the rest is  _ history, _ ” Mattie chuckles, “Our professor focused on culture and humanity more than dates and wars. It was… amazing. She wanted nothing more than to show us everything beautiful that had ever existed in the world. All the elegance and art. It was like one big social function. I’ve always loved a good party, and I thought perhaps I could teach other people to love it, too,” Mattie explains.

“Yes, I’ve been hearing some of the facts you’ve been teaching around school. It sounds, um, colorful as always.” 

Mattie shrugs, “And you? Why are you here so late on a Saturday?”

“Oh, I took some files home because Janice wanted them prepared for graduation. It’s that time of year again when we have to check to make sure all the seniors are on track, and as far as I can tell everything is just perfect.” Perry pats the pile of files still sitting at her side.

“I should have guessed, what with the entirely overwhelming number of things you do for this office,” Mattie teases.

“Oh, no, this is just a small side project. It’s nothing really,” Perry reassures her. 

“You’re being modest,” Mattie scoffs, her grin widening, “Take the credit. You deserve it.”

Perry’s face flushes, her hands fidgeting, “I… thank you. I… um..”

Mattie watches Perry in surprise. It wasn’t that strong of a compliment was it? Suddenly aware of her casual posture and their increasing proximity, she steps back and squares her shoulders.

“I suppose I should get back to grading,” she says lightly.

“Yes, right, of course. I’m on my way out anyway, because I have everything I need and it really is wonderful to work from my room where I can keep an eye on the floor and, well, I don’t want to be distracting you from your very important teacherly duties,” Perry says, spinning to gather her folders. Anything to be out of this room and away from this feeling in her chest, like pieces are falling together and mending and, oh, so many very unfortunate things.

In her haste, she forgets that stepping out from behind the desk will bring her directly into Mattie’s path. Even though Mattie is standing back to let her through, Perry tries to squeeze by the desk as closely as she can to avoid any further awkwardness. Unfortunately, her panic has impaired her senses somewhat, and instead of slipping unobtrusively away, her hip collides with the corner of the desk and sends her stumbling forward. 

Mattie reaches for her without a second thought. Perry’s resolve shatters at the feeling of Mattie’s hands guiding her back to her feet and she folds into the waiting arms practically on instinct. All of a sudden they’re chest to chest with only the student files to separate them. Mattie’s arm rests gently around the small of Perry’s back, Perry’s free hand pressed to her collarbone. 

They stand in silence, Perry still leaning into Mattie, Mattie’s grip never loosening. Perry refuses to look her in the eye, staring instead at her hand against Mattie’s skin. 

“Are you alright, dear?” The term of endearment slips out without her noticing, her full attention on Perry. Tears are gathering at the corner of Perry’s eyes, not surprising considering the force with which she’d knocked against the table. 

“Fine,” Perry whispers, “Perfectly fine.” The pain wasn’t that awful, but the impact had caught her off guard, causing her body to react in the most natural way it could. Her gaze flickers towards Mattie’s eyes and then down at her lips. Mattie tries to think of something to say, but then Perry is turning her head and pressing her lips to Mattie’s and all Mattie can do is sigh.

The kiss is short and sweet and Perry pulls away with her eyes closed and her lips parted. Mattie watches her, her heart beating painfully against her ribs, her lungs working overtime just to keep up. Perry’s face slowly crumbles, her brow knitting in frustration.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… I know I shouldn’t have…” 

Mattie leans forward and kisses her again, her hand moving from Perry’s shoulder to the back of her neck. Perry melts into her, their mouths coming together over and over again as if they’ll never get enough. Eventually it becomes too much, the urge to destroy the distance between them entirely and the knowledge that to do so would be disastrous breaking them apart. Perry ducks her head and curls further into the embrace, Mattie resting her cheek against Perry’s hair. The files under Perry’s arm are still trapped between them, preventing them from coming together completely.

“We can’t,” Mattie says.

“No,” Perry agrees, “We can’t.”

Perry steps away delicately, favoring her hip slightly, but otherwise unharmed. There is a burning intensity in her gaze that leaves Mattie momentarily speechless. By the time she comes to her sense, Perry is disappearing out the office door and down the hall past the windows. Mattie leans against the wall and closes her eyes. How could this happen? She’d only wanted to make amends. She hadn’t wanted to interfere or become involved. Right wrongs and move on, wasn’t that the expectation?

Only now it was all coming back, all the love that she’d bottled up and shoved deep down inside of her to please Mother and leave this wretched place. Love that could potentially end her career, if it was discovered she’d become intimate with a student. 

Only six more weeks, she reminds herself. Six weeks and it’s back to the city and college and the life she’s built for herself.

Outside, a figure with an abundance of red curls sits on the steps of the building and drops her head into her hands. Her shoulders shake, but she does not make a sound. 

 

~~~

 

As dusk falls around the campus, three figures emerge from the library. Laura is in the middle, her fingers hooked into her backpack straps as she bounces down the front steps and turns back to her companions.

“I know I’ve already said it a million times but, guys! Why didn’t you tell me your study sessions are amazing?!” 

“They’re just debates. Besides, you were supposed to watch,” Carmilla sighs. Laura had quickly overcome her cold feet and had spent the entire session switching sides as she found convenient to her understanding of the material. Mostly, she switched to Danny’s.

“You’re only saying that because I beat you six to four,” Danny says, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, so maybe I technically facilitated some friendly cheating, but I helped both of you so it doesn’t count! What’s important is that you. Guys. Kick. Ass! Danny, your devil’s advocate was… I mean, wow! I just, I can’t even believe you can do that for subjects you aren’t even taking. You were interrupting and the chapters were so complex like, I’m in that class and I don’t think I know the material that well!”

Carmilla’s feels her chest constrict as Laura praises Danny. The two of them are closer than ever now that the feud is over and there are no sides to pick. In fact, they’re perfect for each other, what with the enthusiasm and the optimism…

“And Carmilla, you just… make it sound awesome! All those connections you were making to real people and real issues instead of just listing off dates and major events I mean,” Laura scoffs, “If I could make this dusty old book come alive like that I would not be getting a C in that class.”

Carmilla looks up at Laura through her bangs. She hadn’t realized Laura was paying so much attention.

“History is just literature that happened, if you find the right books,” she offers. 

“It’s no wonder you two are at the top of the class after Perry. I wish I was that good,” Laura says.

“Why don’t you study with us?” Danny asks, “Consider today just an observation period or whatever and next time you can debate with us!”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Laura laughs, “I’m way behind and, like, I’d love to but... I could never come up with those crazy complex questions or super smooth answers and I don’t want you guys to lose study time catching me up or teaching me the ropes.”

Carmilla tilts her head to the side and watches the little smile on Laura’s face disappear and reappear like the easiest thing in the world.

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, cupcake. You always did well when we debated in our lit class, and you kept up with us today, didn’t you?” she says, looking out at the courtyard instead of at Laura.

“Oh, uh, thanks. I guess, I just thought since I didn’t argue as much as you guys… I don’t know if I could do a whole session.”

Carmilla nods like her cautiousness is the most natural thing in the world. 

“Well, if you reconsider, we’d be happy to have you,” Danny says.

They’re just crossing into the village when Laura catches sight of Laf and Perry heading towards the dining hall. They wave to the trio and meet halfway, Carmilla hanging back awkwardly as the others throw out greetings.

“We were just going to call you,” Laf explains, “Are you still up for dinner tonight or..?”

“Oh, yeah! Do you guys want to come?” Laura asks, turning to Danny and then Carmilla. Danny checks her watch and grimaces.

“Sorry guys, I’ve got practice soon. Next time though for sure,” Danny says, waving goodbye and jogging towards the dorms. 

Carmilla feels a part of herself die as Danny disappears across the yard. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Spend time with Laura and the ginger twins, one of which had dated her sister to a very traumatic conclusion, on her own?

Not that she’d automatically assumed she would say yes to the invitation when Laura had offered, of course. 

“Carmilla?”

She returns from her thoughts and finds the three watching her expectantly. She forces herself to focus on Laura, which isn’t exactly the most difficult thing she’s ever had to do, all things considered. 

Laura is looking at her softly, her features as neutral as Carmilla suspects she can make them, as if to imply the question has no wrong answer. There’s a spark in her eye, that same spark that had convinced Carmilla she needed to destroy Laura at all costs to protect herself. Only now it doesn’t seem quite so dangerous, Laura knowing the truth. In fact it seems almost… comforting.

“Well, I suppose I have nothing better to do,” she says finally.

Laura grins and turns back to Laf and Perry, chattering about her day and the study session with the same enthusiasm as before. Carmilla follows them, not quite sure where she fits, but unable to let this meeting end just yet.

  
Despite her reservations, Laura looks over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure Carmilla is still there, and when they eventually join the line in the dining hall, Laura stands next to her as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. People stare, of course they do, but Laura ignores them in favor of asking Carmilla to tell her about what Silas was like before the school started failing, and not long after Carmilla forgets them too. 


	10. Chapter 10

Carmilla is mostly quiet through dinner, talking bluntly and curtly when Laura asks her questions or she has a strong opinion, but otherwise keeping her attention directed to the half-baked potatoes on her plate. She’d sat down in the chair next to Laura with unrivaled speed, almost as if she’d been worried Perry or Laf might sit there instead. 

Laura tries to act normal, keeping the conversation going with the day’s adventures, asking about the many science experiments Laf has growing on the back counter of the lab, and yet she still finds herself glancing over at Carmilla every few moments. 

Every time Laura talks, Carmilla’s eyes flash in her direction. She’s listening, even if she’s being broody and unattached.

Perry and Laf don’t seem to mind that she’s there, though they do send Laura some peculiar looks whenever the weirdness of having Laura’s ex-sworn enemy and resident bad girl at the table gets a little too palpable. They know that she and Carmilla have been talking in class and that sort of thing, and she’d definitely relayed their art room chat in great detail minus some respectful editing, but the sudden appearance of Carmilla at their regular table is probably still just a bit surprising. 

They end on a bit of a high note, Laf having made a joke that Carmilla actually laughed at. For a moment, Laura can see it. They could sit like this every night, or at least once in awhile. She doesn’t know if Carmilla actually wants to be part of the group, doubts it actually, but that’s not really important. What’s important is that everyone gets along, because if they get along Laura can keep inviting Carmilla to things which means they get to spend more time together. Not that they were spending time together before today, but, well, y’know.

Carmilla sticks with them on the way back to the dorms, making small talk about the upcoming Halloween festivities and the likelihood of the new dorms actually being finished by next term like they’d announced on Friday. Somewhere between the front door and the stairs to their rooms, they lose Laf and Perry to a distraught freshman. There isn’t even a moment to say goodbye, just tears from the student and soft mothering tones from Perry and like that they were gone.

Carmilla and Laura take the stairs to the third floor mostly in silence, tired and looking forward to curling up in their respective rooms, one with a blog and the other with a book. Laura doesn’t know about Carmilla, but spending the entire afternoon in the library had really wiped her out. She wouldn’t be surprised if she passed out on contact with her door, let alone her bed.

When they reach their section of the hallway they stop and linger.

“Thanks for letting me join your study sesh today,” Laura says, “And for going to dinner with us. I know that’s not usually your thing so… y’know, thanks.”

“You said thank you twice,” Carmilla replies.

Laura nods. Of course that’s her response.

Carmilla seems to read her mind, shaking her head as a small smile curves across her lips, “Thank you for inviting me. You didn’t need to risk me starting a fight with the ginger twins and yet you did.”

“You wouldn’t start a fight.”

“Really? I could start one right now.”

Laura laughs, making Carmilla’s smile turn to a smirk. Laura feels her cheeks flush and quickly ducks her head.

“So, we should do this again sometime,” she says. For a moment there’s no reply, causing Laura to look up. Carmilla is staring at her with an unreadable expression on her face, like a cross between confusion and enlightenment. Finally, she takes out her phone. 

“Number?”

Laura rattles off the number and Carmilla sends her a quick text, just “hey”, and watches Laura take out her phone to add Carmilla as a contact.

“A flip phone? Seriously?”

Laura grimaces, “My dad thinks smartphones cause kidnappings.”

Carmilla snorts and tucks her phone away, “Well that explains a few things.”

“Hey!”

“Oh, come on, I’m teasing. You’re so uptight sometimes. If we’re going to be friends we’re gonna need to loosen you up.”

Laura feels her heart jump in her chest, her hand flying out to catch the door knob, though whether to flee or keep her steady she can’t be sure. Carmilla barely keeps herself from laughing at the look on her face. Oh, Laura...

“Right, well, I really need to get started on this paper, so I’m just gonna… goodnight!” She squeaks, flinging open the door.

“Sweet dreams, cupcake,” Carmilla sighs, watching Laura disappear into her room and the door latched securely behind her. After several more moments of quiet thought, she slips into her room as well.

~~~

It doesn’t take long for them to start meeting in the hall to walk to class together, or to find each other in the library on study hall days. Of course, it’s mostly Laura finding Carmilla, but Laura doesn’t entirely miss the way Carmilla casually glides into her line of sight every once in awhile. As the days pass, she finds herself wondering if they’ve officially crossed the line from friendly acquaintances to friends. They hadn’t exactly officially hung out again, but they still talked every day. That counts for something, right?

It was exactly two weeks after their spontaneous dinner that Laura woke up to find the entire world was Halloween. Laf and Perry had explained Silas’s obsession with the holiday in extensive detail, but she hadn’t really believed them.

In hindsight, she thinks maybe they weren’t extensive enough, actually.

From the Monday before October 31st to the Sunday after, Silas is transformed into a Halloween wonderland. Everybody and their goldfish spend at least the entire week in costume, the teachers hand out candy, various clubs hold scary movie marathons, and at least one of the dorm floors orchestrates a school wide prank. Laura, having been unaware of the tradition when she packed for the term, can’t actually dress up every day of the week, which causes it’s fair share of moping. After all, Halloween is her favorite holiday. Seriously, what’s better than mystical creatures and chocolate?

As it turns out, a bonfire. 

A huge carnival bonfire.

Because the boy’s soccer team is in charge of the very not school approved homecoming after-party, the girl’s soccer team is in charge of the very not school approved Halloween party-party. Apparently they’d tossed coins for the privilege until the boy’s team had scored the connection that let them use the party house, at which point the matter was settled pretty much forever. 

“Honestly, they didn’t even get the one they wanted,” Danny had explained the day before, “Everyone cares more about the bonfire, but it has to be in the old field behind the abandoned farm. It’s tradition, y’know? So the boys got the house, which they were excited about and made the homecoming bash like ten times cooler, since we used to have it in the abandoned barn and it was gross, but they also lost the bonfire. Trust me, some of them are still bitter.”

The bonfire wasn’t just a bonfire either. There were games and snacks and costume contests, as well as what Laf had described as “our generation's greatest ghost story.” Laura can’t remember the last time she was so excited for a party.

Carmilla, if the look she gives Laura when she bounces into the library Friday afternoon is any indication, doesn’t seem to be enjoying the festivities as much. Laura ignores the look and slides into the seat across from her. Carmilla hasn’t dressed up even once, though she did make a brief appearance at scary movie night. The movies hadn’t been scary enough, she explained afterward. Laura thought they’d been plenty scary, but then again Carmilla did seem well versed in “darker” media, though Laura couldn’t tell how much of that was real and how much of it was Carmilla just enjoying the aesthetic.

Both, probably.

“Did you bring the notes for Fry’s?” Carmilla asks. Laura pushes them across the table, still grinning. Carmilla takes the notes and flips through them. Fry had assigned them notes, actually assigned them, and of course Carmilla never took notes and couldn’t be bothered to remember what the lecture was about, so Laura had agreed to loan hers to Carmilla before class so that she could loosely interpret her own version. Carmilla isn’t looking forward to the extra work, but on the upside, Laura’s handwriting is adorable. The letters are small and neat, with swirls over the i’s instead of dots, exactly how one might assume she’d write based on her extensive experience with writing. Practice does make perfect, after all. 

“We finally figured out what we’re going as tomorrow night!” Laura whispers across the table, nudging Carmilla’s shin with her foot in order to get Carmilla’s attention. Carmilla raises an eyebrow at her and continues flipping through the book open in front of her.

“Please tell me it’s not condiments,” she mutters.

“What? No! Why would you- Nevermind. We’re going as Hogwarts students!”

Carmilla snorts, “Brilliant.”

“Oh come on this is going to be so cool! Perry and I are Hufflepuff and Laf and JP are Ravenclaw!” Laura explains, practically vibrating with excitement.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” Carmilla mutters, smiling despite herself.

Laura squints at her, “So you have read Harry Potter!”

“Hasn’t everyone?”

Laura shrugs and fiddles with one of the books in Carmilla’s pile. They’re all ancient and yellowed, true proof that the library really has been there since the dawn of time.

“I figured you would think it wasn’t worth your time or something. All you read is… I don’t know… the classics and books with titles I can’t pronounce.”

Carmilla shrugs, “We were all 12 at some point. I got bored of avoiding it.”

Laura waits for some kind of elaboration but realizes after a few moments that Carmilla isn’t going to launch into the story of her first time reading Sorcerer's Stone or how the books had monumentally shaped her life. On second thought, maybe that’s just Laura. 

“So… what are you dressing up as for the bonfire tomorrow night?”

“That’s a terrible question.”

“Of course it is,” Laura sighs, rolling her eyes. Did that mean she wasn’t going at all? Or just not wearing a costume. Everyone went, right? She’d been at Will’s party, and the bonfire was supposed to be cooler, so, it made sense to assume she’d show up.

Or at least, Laura hopes that’s the case.

“I’ll be going as myself, seeing as that already terrifies most people around here,” Carmilla adds with a smirk, her eyes flickering up to meet Laura’s for a split second. Laura’s eyes widen. It’s now or never.

“So you are going?”

Carmilla frowns, “Of course. I like watching the freshman get scared, plus Danny always let’s me have all the leftover candy if I show up and act spooky. At the end of the night, everyone wins.”

Laura nods and licks her lips, “So maybe… you’d want to walk out with us? Hang out a little bit?”

Carmilla looks up at Laura and narrows her eyes. Laura fidgets under her stare, doing her best to match it and feeling like somehow she can lose the battle even if she doesn’t look away.

“You’re inviting me to go with your merry band of wizards?”

“Yes?”

“Oh.”

Carmilla continues to stare at her. She looks like she’s trying to figure something out, probably trying to decide how best to turn Laura down. Laura purses her lips and forces herself to remain steady. She’s itching to say something, anything, that will just get her a damn answer already.

The silence drags on for what feels like hours.

“You don’t have to or anything I just thought, y’know, Danny is going to be there early to set up and Kirsch mentioned all the bros are going together so… I mean, maybe you already have plans with someone else. That’d be cool, too. I’m sure if you have plans they will be awesome, but-”

“Laura!”

Laura stops sheepishly. Carmilla shakes her head and closes her book. She has to meet Will soon, but first...

“I don’t have plans with anyone.”

“Oh.”

“Is this why you asked me what I was going as?”

“Maybe?”

Carmilla sighs, her expression softening, “I’m not wearing a ridiculous costume.”

Laura grins instantly, “Aw but you’d be a perfect Ravenclaw! I have an extra ro-”

“No, Laura.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Just don’t blame me when you’re the odd one out.”

“Like I’m not already?”

“Shut up,” Laura groans, her smile unwavering. 

Carmilla smirks and begins gathering her things, “What time are you meeting up?”

“Seven at the back doors. Laf says they know a shortcut.”

“Well then, I’ll see you there,” Carmilla says, throwing her bag over her shoulder. She gives Laura one last smile before heading out. Laura waits until Carmilla turns the corner and pumps her fist in success. She totally knew Carmilla was going to say yes. They were friends now, obviously, and that’s what friends do. Laura sinks into her chair with a satisfied grin.

This was going to be the best night ever.

~~~

Will and Kirsch walk back from practice like they always do, bags slung over their shoulders and covered in mud, recounting the many wipeouts of the last two hours. It’s their after practice ritual to go over the exercises of the day and talk them out, something Kirsch says his older brother taught him back in elementary school. 

“Because it helps with like, memory or whatever,” he’d said once, knocking Will in the shoulder for laughing at him. Now the walk is so natural Will can’t imagine a practice without it, or Kirsch.

“Bro, all I’m saying is if Kenny had been two steps to the left we would have totally gotten that goal. It’s not the maneuver that’s the problem it’s just like, when to apply it to game strategy y’know?”

Will nods, “Yeah, I don’t know why coach got on you for trying it. If we want to win then we’ve got to learn more advanced stuff. That’s just common sense.”

Kirsch grins and throws his arm around Will, “See man, I knew you’d understand.”

Will shrinks away from Kirsch, his eyes darting away to the gravel path beneath their feet. His heart is hammering in his chest, his face flushed with embarrassment. Kirsch frowns and gently removes his arm. It’s not the first time it’s happened, though they haven’t talked about it. Will doesn’t know what to do, or how to make it stop, and he definitely doesn’t want Kirsch to know what’s happening.

Ever since the party, he can’t look at Kirsch without this weird fluttering feeling in his stomach. It’s obnoxious and distracting, especially with the way Kirsch is always putting his arm around Will’s shoulders and touching him when they hang out. It’s not like he wasn’t touchy-feely before, but now every time it happens Will feels like something inside him is slowly twisting out of shape.

As a result, he’s started pulling away, turning his shoulder towards Kirsch when he gets too close or stepping out of reach at the last second. Will knows Kirsch has noticed. He’s seen it a few times out of the corner of his eye, a perplexed look on Kirsch’s face and then a residual cautiousness that hadn’t been there before. He’s grateful, honestly, though he won’t ever admit it, that Kirsch is the sort of dude to give him his space. It’s not like he likes acting distant, but otherwise he finds himself constantly on edge.

It’s better this way. He’d always worried they were too close anyway, that Kirsch would hold him back. With graduation coming up next year, he might as well get ready to move on.

“That, uh, that pass to Cody was super good though,” Will says, doing his best to get things back on track.

“Yeah, he always gets the farthest with the ball, like what is up with that? He’s tiny!” Kirsch says. From there they launch into a discussion of their teammates and skill levels, the awkwardness nearly forgotten.

When they reach the dorms, Carmilla is already waiting for Will outside the front doors. She gags at the mud caking their legs and shoves a few bills into Will’s hand. 

“My share for the booze tomorrow night. Don’t buy anything crappy this time,” she tells him.

“I always buy the good stuff and you know it,” Will says, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t understand why she makes such a big deal about it when she could get what she wants herself for half the cost. If it pains her so much to use his services, she can always decide to go into town herself.

“Will is like, so good at picking out alcohol,” Kirsch says, trying his best to be helpful. Will flushes and quickly busies himself counting out the money and sticking it in his athletics bag.

Carmilla rolls her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips, “You know what I mean. The old stuff, and make sure you put it where the children can’t get to it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know the rules. We’ll have it for you under the apple bobbing table by like eight or whatever,” Will sighs.

“The bonfire starts at seven thirty.”

“Yeah, and we’ll be fashionably on time as always”

“The team’s gonna do a little pre-gaming,” Kirsch explains, wiggling his eyebrows. Carmilla shoots Will a look as if to ask what the hell is up with his friend, and it makes him feel hot and uncomfortable all over again. 

“Well, feel free to go wild then,” she deadpans, turning to go back into the dorms. Will is almost happy to see her go, but then he remembers the call he’d received at lunch. Shit.

“Wait, there’s something I need to talk to you about!” he calls after her. Carmilla groans but stands her ground, glowering at Will over her shoulder. Will grits his teeth and turns to Kirsch. He needs to just deal with them one at a time and then there won’t be an issue.

“Can you give us a minute?” 

“Yeah, bro, totally.” Kirsch smiles reassuringly and hops up the stairs and through the door. 

Will takes two long strides to Carmilla’s side, ignoring the amused look in her eye.

“So are you dating yet or will I die before the two of get your heads out of your asses and realize how obvious you are?” Carmilla asks.

“What? Dude, no! There’s nothing between Kirsch and I,” Will scoffs. How had she even come up with that? 

“Mhmm, sure there isn’t.”

“There. Isn’t.”

“I’m not wearing a dress to your wedding. Oh, and no, I won’t be your best man.”

“Come on, knock it off!” Will hisses. Carmilla’s eyes widen, surprised at his tone. Usually they tease each other all the time. 

“Did something happen between you two?” Carmilla asks, her voice dropping to a whisper as she squints at him.

“Like what? We’re just friends! How could something possibly happen?”

Carmilla purses her lips and shrugs, “Fine, what do you want?”

“Mom called me. She said she’s going to be out of town for Thanksgiving. We can still go home if we want to. She’s not taking her chef, so...”

Carmilla rolls her eyes.

“I think I’ll just stay here,” she says.

“Yeah, I kinda thought you might,” Will replies, his voice sharp. She never wanted to come home, always complaining that the cook or their mother’s secretary was spying on them or something. Ever since Mattie had left, hell, even before that, she had been slowly driving a wedge between them. Will knows it bothers their mother, too, after she’d given them everything. This kind of thing is exactly why they aren’t close anymore.

“What do you want me to say? We only get two days off and it’s right before finals. I have better things to do than drive two hours into the city and back.”

“So I’m just supposed to go back alone? She expects us to act like a family and you never do your part,” Will reminds her. 

“You can do whatever you want. Stay, go, it’s up to you. It’s just a stupid dinner, William.”

“Well I’m glad we had this talk, sis. It’s good to know you care,” he snaps. He pushes past her and into the dorms. He doesn’t want to listen to her useless excuses. She’s the reason they aren’t a real family anymore, when they could have had everything together.

He’s sick of it.

~~~

The last 24 hours before the bonfire fly by in a flurry of last minute costume checks and rushed homework. Laura spends most of the day in Laf and Perry’s suite being tutored by JP in her math homework while Perry putters around putting the finishing touches on their robes and hats. Laura’s had been too long, and Laf’s had needed shorter sleeves simply to avoid being a fire hazard. She’d sewn a prefects badge onto her own and JP’s, and added a quill badge to Laura’s and a potions badge to Laf’s as well. Laura couldn’t contain her excitement, running back and forth with Laf for nearly half an hour shouting spells and getting themselves into trouble before it is finally, finally time to head downstairs. 

Surprisingly enough, Carmilla is already waiting for them at the back door when they get there. She has an old copy of A Night in the Lonesome October folded open in her hand, but she doesn’t seem very engrossed in it. She closes it and tucks it into her black leather backpack as the hogwarts pupils spill down the stairs towards her. Laura is the first to reach her, proudly showing off her quill and embroidered hat as they pass through the door and out onto the lawn behind the dorms.

“This is going to be the coolest thing ever,” Laura squeals as they walk along the lake towards the clearing. It’s the opposite direction from the party house and the campus, up a ridge and onto the back end of an abandoned farm. 

“Why do I feel like you’ve been this way all day?” Carmilla teases, her voice intentionally low as Laura blushes.

“I wouldn’t say all day,” she mutters.

“I would,” Laf snorts.

“Me too!” Perry calls from the front, the flashlight swiveling out over the trees as she turns to look back at them.

“We’ve had a very exciting afternoon!” JP affirms. 

Carmilla smiles smugly as Laura contemplates future opportunities for revenge. Seeing the frown on Laura’s face, Carmilla leans over and nudges her with her shoulder.

“Well, that means at least one person is properly celebrating this sugar-encrusted scare fest. The rest of us clearly need to catch up,” she says just loud enough for Laura to hear.

“Uh, obviously. I am the best at parties,” Laura says. Carmilla snorts and shakes her head. 

“Okay, that party was awful though. That does not count,” Laura exclaims.

“Whatever you say, cupcake.”

“I’m serious!”

“Oh no, I understand. It was your first wild party, wild parties are an acquired taste, you were simply overwhelmed…”

“Was not!”

Carmilla shrugs, “I just call it like I see it, sweetheart.”

“Oh, shut up!”

Carmilla smirks and doesn’t reply, causing Laura to roll her eyes and attempt to pay attention to the path they’ve cut through the forest. Instead she ends up noticing Carmilla, specifically, the way Carmilla’s hand bumps against her own as they walk. They’ve somehow drawn closer to each other, their shoulders brushing with every step. Laura looks at Carmilla out of the corner of her eye. She looks like she always does, bored or daydreaming, and not at all interested in how close they are. Laura could just reach out and take her hand, just a few centimeters, one little motion.

The sound of Perry hushing Laf and JP makes her look forward again. Everyone quiets as the sound of something snapping and crackling grows louder. The forest begins to brighten, the evergreens glowing with yellow light. Music echoes through the hills and Laura can just begin to pick out voices as they round the bend and come face to face with the biggest fire she thinks she’s ever seen.

They were really not playing around when they said bonfire.

The pile is easily fifteen or twenty feet tall, stacked high with driftwood and wood pallets they’d probably stolen from the dining hall. Laura can feel the heat all the way at the edge of the clearing, her eyes stinging from the sudden influx of light. She almost couldn’t believe it was safe, or that the faculty couldn’t see it from the campus. Hell, NASA could probably report them to the cops from space.

As her eyes adjust the rest of the party comes into view. A ring of chairs of all shapes and sizes surround the bonfire, filled with costumed students lounging in the warmth. Beyond that are a number of tents and stations for different kinds of games or activities, including two tables piled high with food and a series of barbecues sizzling away in the background. Beyond the immediate hub of the party is a wide open field and what looks to be a carefully constructed “zombie survival course.” Danny had been working on it for weeks, and by the looks of it all that prep had finally paid off.

“Hey guys!” Danny calls from the middle of the crowd. She’s dressed like a gladiator, her helmet tucked under her arm.

“Danny this is amazing!” Laura says.

“Yeah, the girls really went all out this year,” Danny agrees proudly. 

“I see creampuffs shaped like ghosts and chocolate pretzel sticks!” Laf shouts. 

“Dibs!” Laura yells immediately. The two of them, followed closely by JP and Perry, bound over to the food table.

Danny shakes her head, “This is going to be fun.”

“If she isn’t completely hung over in the morning from the gross misjudgement of her chocolate intake, I will be surprised,” Carmilla says.

“Seriously,” Danny snorts, “At least that worked out. The planning this year was a mess. We still don’t have anyone to do the ghost story later.”

Carmilla looks at her in surprise. There’s always someone to do the ghost story. Not that she particularly cares about the school’s inane traditions, but still. 

“Isn’t that the only reason we come out here?”

“Exactly,” Danny says.

“They’re going to eat you alive,” Carmilla realizes.

“I’ve asked everyone. No one can remember it, or they’re too shy to get up and perform it. AJ did it the last two years and then graduated without naming a successor and of course no one noticed,” Danny complains, “That’s what happens with the storyteller isn’t on the team. No loyalty.”

“I remember Mattie worrying about naming a successor. She wasn’t on the team either but she did a pretty fantastic job…” Carmilla stops, her head tilted slightly to the side. Mattie had done the story three years in a row, the most anyone had ever done, and the only reason she stopped was because she graduated.

“Give me your phone,” Carmilla says. Danny gives her a concerned look but hands it over.

Carmilla sends a quick text, and moments later she has a reply. Smirking, she hands the phone back.

“There, problem solved.”

Danny gapes at the message on the screen, “You’re kidding.”

Carmilla salutes her and heads off to find her whiskey. After shoving several freshman out of the way to retrieve it, she heads to a dark little corner of the music tent and observes. Will is standing at the punchbowl with his back to the party, dressed in his usual tight shirt and jeans. When he turns around she can see fake fangs protruding from his lips and she scoffs. A vampire? Original. Kirsch, who is wearing a spotted sweater and dog ears, his nose painted black to match, is standing next to him. Carmilla smirks. A beagle, how adorable.

Across from them, Laura and Laf are piling their plates high with every kind of sugar they can get their hands on. Laura’s primary objective is to stuff her face and then dance until she feels like she’s going to fall over, and while Laf sort of shares that goal, they’re also quite interested in sticking things in the fire.

“The gummies are going to burn the fastest,” they declare, dragging Perry to the fire to supervise. 

Things are a blur after that, the flickering flames and shifting shadows melting every moment into the next, until Laura can’t tell if time is going forwards or backwards. She knows the ground is under her feet but even that feels only half real. All around her people are laughing and dancing, complimenting costumes, and screwing around. The cold October air can’t even touch them this close to the burning mammoth. Laf does indeed burn as much candy as they can and then that song comes on, you know the one, and just like that they’re dancing, naming their moves after Hogwarts characters right and left. Laura can’t remember the last time she’s had this much fun.

Laura tumbles out of the ruckus to get something to cool down, water or ice, or a hat made of ice maybe, and nearly walks straight into Carmilla. She’s leaning up against a large crate next to the tent with the big speakers that are blasting music, sipping at a bottle that looks fancier than whatever is in the punch that Laura is avoiding.

“Hey! I wondered where you’d gotten to! Do you want to come dance with us? Perry is showing us her moves,” Laura giggles. 

Carmilla smiles and lowers the bottle from her lips, “I’d rather avoid the crowd, cupcake. It’s really not my thing.”

“Come on, you must know some dancing! You really don’t mind being over here alone?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Oh, well, I’ll just leave you to it,” Laura says, her face falling slightly as she turns to continue on her way.

“I don’t mind a little company,” Carmilla says quickly, “Large groups of obnoxious people are a different category entirely.”

Laura stops, a confused expression on her face.

“You can stand with me, if you want,” Carmilla clarifies.

“Oh,” Laura smiles, “Yeah, just, gimme a second?”

She returns less than a minute later with a cup of water and a new supply of cookies, and leans against the crate next to Carmilla. It’s surprisingly solid, but Laura doesn’t notice it much once Carmilla starts talking.

“It’s strange don’t you think? Everyone here is most likely on their way to a star-studded career in politics or engineering. One day we’ll fall in love and a good number of us will have children. We’ll live for more years than we’ve been alive, do powerful things, change the world. But this is what we’re going to remember. This is the moment everyone looks back and says, ah yes, the good old days, when things weren’t complicated and no one told you what to do.”

Laura stares at her. Where had that come from?

“Would that be bad?” she asks.

“No. I just think it’s interesting. Nostalgia is certainly a force to be reckoned with, don’t you agree?”

“Yeah… but it helps, I think. It reminds us that good times are possible,” Laura says.

Carmilla smirks and nods, “Exactly, cupcake.”

From somewhere in the crowd a chant begins. Lady of the lake! Lady of the Lake! Laura checks her watch and is surprised to find it’s nearly eleven o’clock. Danny emerges from the crowd and hops up on a table set-up in the ring of chairs around the bonfire.

“Looks like it’s time,” Carmilla says. She stows her liquor and slips toward the crowd, indicating for Laura to follow. The others are already gathered close to the fire, even Will and Kirsch coming into the circle to listen. Will is standing with some space between them, but Carmilla doesn’t have time to wonder why. She has Laura to worry about, and besides, he can take care of himself.

“Gather around everyone!” Danny calls, “You know what time it is!”

“Lady of the Lake!”

“That’s right! It is time for the story of our very own Lady of the Lake, no relation to that famous one we all had to learn about freshman year. This one is very much real, and she lives in the Shunned House, just over on the other side of the lake.”

Carmilla and Laura manage to squeeze in close to the front, Carmilla’s patented glare cutting through the crowd like a knife. Laura watches wide-eyed as the crowd goes nearly silent at Danny’s words, excited murmuring the only sound she can still make out over the bonfire.

“Now, I’m no storyteller, so I will be needing a volunteer who thinks they can recite the tale of our fair lady with absolute precision to come up here and scare the living hell out of us. Who wants to volunteer? Okay, I see five hands, six…”

“Well, well, well, what do we have here.”

Half the collected students shriek as a bright, industrial grade flashlight sweeps over them. Mattie, in a dark coat and slacks, steps out of the shadows behind them. She must have been waiting by the line of cars parked near the trees on the edge of the party. At the sight of her, at least four students try to make a break for it, but are blocked by various members of the soccer team who had subtly taken up posts around the crowd. Carmilla chuckles and looks over her shoulder at Will. He stares at Mattie in surprise and then looks at Carmilla, his expression quickly morphing into one of distrust. Carmilla frowns. Doesn’t he understand it’s a set-up.

“Fellow students, Mattie Belmonde! We fear her in the classroom, but here, she is one of us!” Danny declares loudly. It dawns on the seniors first and they begin cheering, a few of them yelling “Welcome back Belmonde” and “Tell it like you used to!” The younger students, slowly piecing together the details, join in quickly and with force. Danny helps her onto the table and then hops down, giving her the floor.

Will is still scowling.

“Hello everyone…” Mattie surveys the crowd with a playful smile, “Are you ready for a story?”

The crowd delivers a shout of affirmation so enthusiastically the trees shake. Mattie’s grin widens, and she begins to pace the makeshift stage.

“It all started years and years ago. Goodness, it was even before Silas, before the dorms and the campus, and before students. The house on the lake, what we now call the shunned house, was home to a family of groundskeepers. They were hired by the owners of the land to make sure that no one disturbed their property, because of course it was so big that they couldn’t take care of it themselves.”

Laura feels her heart stop. The words were familiar… not exactly the same but… she could have sworn...

“The groundskeeper had a daughter named Delilah, and she was just barely 17. Now, sometimes Delilah would go up to the main house to report to their employer by herself. Her mother and father were getting old and the walk all the way down to Hershey Estate was hard. Plus, if they stayed behind they could have dinner ready by the time she came back, which was much easier than waiting to eat until eight or nine o’clock.”

So Delilah went alone, her mother’s voice says, overlapping with Mattie’s. Laura blinks rapidly. It couldn’t be. She hadn’t heard this story in years, not since her mother had landed her job at the regional paper and started travelling.

Beside her Carmilla shifts, her eyes fixed on Laura’s face. She looks mesmerized, scared to death and the story hasn’t even started...

“One day, Delilah headed out for the main house a little later than usual. Part of the fence was broken, and she and her father had spent the day out in the field recording what they would need to repair it as quickly as possibly. It wasn’t long after she left that night started to fall…”

After the sun had set, a group of teenagers found the break in the fence. Thinking they’d have a little fun, they climbed through and headed towards the house. They didn’t realize that Delilah’s father was fiercely loyal to his employer and would do anything to protect it. All they knew was that there was a pie in the window of the house, and two frail seniors in the other room. They dared someone to go in and steal the pie without being cut, and one boy volunteered. 

Laura squeezes her eyes shut, willing the memory away. It wasn’t the same story, it couldn’t be. Her mom had made that story up when she was little. No one else had ever heard it before.

“What the teenagers didn’t know was that Delilah was on her way back from the main house. Just as the boy was reaching for the pie in the window, her parents none the wiser in the other room, Delilah came out of the forest. When she saw the rest of the teenagers crouching in the dark outside of her house she screamed, alerting her parents to the boy inside the house who was trying to steal the pie. Delilah’s father grabbed the hammer from the mantle, where he’d set it after coming home. Suddenly afraid for his life, the boy pulled a gun from his jacket and shot them both.”

Carmilla turns her body towards Laura, worry flooding her system. Laura is shaking like a leaf, her hands pressed over her mouth, her eyes fixed on the ground in front of them.

“Laura?”

The next day, Delilah never showed up to report to the owner of the property. Fearing something had happened to them, he sent his eldest son to see if they were at the house. He found her parents first, dead on their living room floor. The son panicked, dashing outside to call for Delilah. What he found instead were the teenagers who had planned on stealing the pie, face down in the lake, drowned.

Laura doesn’t respond. She’s unaware of anything but her mother’s face, the feeling of sitting with her on the porch in the dark on Halloween, listening to her tell this exact story. She feels hot and cold all at once, like suddenly the ground she’d been on is gone, ripped out from underneath her.

“The police searched for three weeks, but they never found Delilah. Eventually they gave up. She must have drowned with them, because what else could have happened? But there were rumors of a girl who would walk the edge of the lake, whispering under her breath about a fence, and that anyone who came too close would regret it. For a long time no one could say they’d seen her for sure, until one night a young Silas student found herself on the lake at midnight on a cold winter’s night. She’d wanted to see if the story of the ghost was real, and so she walked out to the lake and up into the Shunned House.”

The Lake House.

“No one had been in the Shunned House for years. The whole place was dusty and falling apart, but one thing caught the girl’s attention. There was a book on the floor. She picked it up and started flipping through it, but found that it had been hollowed out. Inside was an emerald ring. It was the ring that Delilah’s mother had worn, and that would one day be hers. And that’s when the girl heard it.”

I will get revenge. They will pay for what they did to us. One day I will return, and I will burn them to the ground.

“Laura if it’s too scary, we can go,” Carmilla murmurs. Laura shakes her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. The story is almost done. She needs to know what happens at the end. Just to be sure.

“As soon as the girl heard those words, a wailing sound filled the house. The girl looked up, and out the window she saw something rising from the water. The face of a woman with long dark hair and pale skin was staring at her from the middle of the lake. The noise got louder and the lights got brighter until the only thing the girl could see out the window was the woman sinking back into the water. 

The next morning she woke up in her bed in the dorms, soaking wet, freezing, with no idea how she’d gotten there. Ever since, if you go to the Shunned House on just the right night, you might see her too; watching, waiting, for any meddlesome teenagers who might trespass on her property, so that she can drown them in the lake.”

And there she will stay until she gets what she came for.

“It was her’s,” Laura whispers.

Carmilla doesn’t hear her, but the look on Laura’s face is familiar. It’s the look of someone who has just discovered something terrible and is frozen inside of it. 

She’s about to ask Laura to repeat herself when the crowd bursts into applause, drowning out any words she might have spoken.

Laura slips backward out of the crowd, her body still humming with the memory the story had pulled straight from her soul. Carmilla follows, calling her name, but Laura can’t do it, she can’t turn around and look into that bonfire again now that she knows what it means.

This is Silas’s tradition, her mother’s ghost story. 

Before she knows exactly what she’s doing she’s running through the trees. Her robe gets caught on something, a branch, a tree, and she stumbles out of it, not even slowing long enough to hear Carmilla yelling that she’s going to get lost. Laura doesn’t care. 

What she needs is space. Immediate, open space.


	11. Chapter 11

Carmilla tries to follow her but Laura has a head start and after she loses her robe it is much harder to see her in the dark. Carmilla plucks the robe from the bush it had grabbed a hold of and slings it over her shoulder. Behind her, Laf, Perry, Jp, and the others are peeling out of the crowd and coming to see what the commotion is about. Laf turns up to see Laura disappear into the woods and instantly turns to yell for the others.

“She just took off,” Carmilla tells them as they meet her at the edge of the trees, “She was crying during the story and wouldn’t even talk to me.”

“She just… went?” Perry asks, her brow knit in confusion.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. And she’s gone, so if you’d like to ask her about it, we’re going to have to find her first,” Carmilla snaps.

“Okay, so we don’t know where she’s going, or if she even found the trail or anything, so one of us should go back to campus and wait for her while the rest search for her out here.”

“Yeah, that forest is trippy, literally. For all we know she’s in a ditch somewhere with a broken ankle, especially if she’s upset,” Laf adds.

Mattie, searching for Carmilla, appears next to them. She takes one look at the concern on their faces and steps closer to her sister.

“What’s the matter? Is everyone alright?”

“Laura ran off. The story upset her,” Carmilla explains.

“Well, that has been known to happen. I assume you’re going after her?”

“That’s the plan,” Danny confirms.

“I’m the one with the keys, so I’ll head back and search the campus. Lafontaine can come with me and start at the other edge of the forest and work this way while you two start here and work your way back,” Perry decides.

Kirsch, emerging from the crowd, sees their huddle and bounds over. His ears are skewed to one side and his nose is smudged, making him even more adorable than before.

“Hey, what’s the circle for? Where’s the little nerd?”

“Missing. We’re forming a search party,” Laf says.

“Laura’s missing?! Can I help? I’m super qualified; I got my tracking badge twice!” Kirsch insists.

“Yeah, the more of us there are the faster we’ll find her. We’re just splitting up into groups,” Danny says.

“Hold on let me see if Will wants to come. Hey! Will!” Kirsch calls across the field. Will, standing next to the fire with a bunch of the guys from the team. His eyes narrow, scanning over the group in displeasure. As if he never heard Kirsch, he turns back around and continues to talk to his friends. Kirsch lowers his arm slowly and turns back.

“Sorry, I’m not really sure what’s gotten into him.”

Danny frowns sympathetically, “You can be with me Kirsch. Remember, if anyone finds her, text me, cause I’m the only one who has everyone’s phone numbers.”

“We could all just text each other, if Carmilla wanted to give us her number,” Laf counters.

“Do I look like a call center to you?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t try to get her number. Usually ends badly,” Danny interrupts.

“We’re wasting time,” Carmilla sighs. Without waiting for a response, she throws Laura’s robe over her shoulder and heads into the forest. 

The other’s share a worried look.

“Leave her,” Mattie advises, “She’ll walk it off. And one of you call me when you find Laura. Unfortunately I need to go before I make too much of an impression. You know how students talk.” She gives them one last nod of support and heads off in the direction of the parking lot at the other end of the field. 

“If we don’t find her in half an hour, we meet back at campus and call somebody,” Danny says.

“Roger.” Laf quips over their shoulder as Perry tugs them towards the trail.

“Let’s split up, but not too far, okay?” Danny says to Kirsch as they head towards the trees.

“Definitely. What about Carmilla?”

“It’s Carmilla.”

“Oh. Right.”

 

~~~

 

Carmilla stomps through the forest fully intent on finding Laura and dragging her back to the dorms by the scruff of her neck. Stupid, dangerous, emotional choices. Why was it always stupid, dangerous, emotional choices?

Unfortunately that isn’t the question of the hour. Where the hell had Laura run off to?

If she was running for comfort, she’d go to the dorms, but the way she’d backed away from the fire suggested she was looking for safety. The dorms were the best possibility then, but if Laura was also looking for an escape, would she go for the one place people would expect her to?

What about after it wore off? Once Laura was sad and alone, with whatever it was hanging over her head, too tired to run any farther and far enough away to think, what would she look for then?

Carmilla smirks. Laura would try to fight it. She’d confront whatever she found head on. She’d want proof. She’d want the truth.

She’d look her demons in the eye. If the story is what had her spooked…

Carmilla changes course midstep, nearly twisting her ankle in the process.

She knows where Laura is.

 

~~~

 

Laura stands at the end of the Silas dock, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle as she shivers. The adrenaline is wearing off but her skin is still burning, her pulse thundering in her ears. The tears are long gone, her locket clenched tightly in her fist, the chain broken. Her mind feels fuzzy, blurring at the edges in stark contrast to the sharp world around her.  
The night sky is studded with a million stars, the moon hanging so low it kisses the trees on the other side of the lake. In the center of it all, the Shunned House stands like a monument to the past. Laura can hardly believe that this is the lake house her mother had described to her; this teetering castaway, with its peeling paint and glassless windows. She wouldn’t have believed it six months ago, or even a year ago, if her mother had told Laura herself.

Now she’s not sure if she wants to believe anything else.

The chasm in her heart where her mother is cradled feels like it’s been torn wider. There’s a longing deep in her bones to run, to leap into the lake, to climb the steps of that house and throw the door open, like her mother might be sitting there on the sagging floorboards with a newspaper in her hand and a pencil behind her ear. Just waiting for her. Watching the world turn until Laura stumbles upon her secret sanctuary like she might wait for the afternoon news cycle or the mailman.

She can feel terror oozing out of the new wound, the same terror she’d felt when she woke to police cars and a motherless house. She’s made the connection too late. Every second that passes drags her back to reality, to a world where she can never call her mother to tell her that they have one more thing in common.

Her mother’s voice is gone and Laura is empty.

“Laura?”

The voice is so soft Laura almost mistakes it for the wind. Carmilla is walking slowly down the dock, Laura’s robe hanging off her shoulders haphazardly. Her hair is loose and fluttering around her neck, her face, her eyes.

Laura doesn’t know what to say.

“The Shunned House,” Carmilla remarks, “Guess I was right.”

When Laura looks down instead of replying Carmilla sighs, “Come on, cupcake. We’ve got history, remember? You don’t need to be embarrassed or whatever.”

“When I was little my mom used to tell me a ghost story on Halloween, the same story, down to the word almost,” Laura whispers.

A soft noise of understanding slips passed Carmilla’s lips.

“I’d never heard of Silas before I came here. She never said anything about boarding school, or moving out of her hometown. It can’t just be a weird coincidence, right? There’s no way my mom just happened to know the Silas ghost story by heart. She must have been a student here,” Laura says, her voice rough and painful.

“I mean, it doesn’t… guarantee that she was,” Carmilla replies. It does, mostly. Dozens of students had done papers on the Silas ghost, and as far as anyone could tell it was a completely isolated incident. Especially if Laura’s mother had recited it nearly verbatim, like Mattie. That almost guaranteed she was a popular Silas student, chosen as the storyteller by her class. No one else knew the story well enough to recite it. 

“Do you think my dad knew?” Laura asks, “When he sent me here? Do you think that’s why?”

“You’d have to ask him, sweetheart.”

Laura scowls, “I just want to understand why this is happening! Why any of it happened! Why does it feel like everyone gets something I don’t? How can people just keep going when… when…”

“It was an accident, Laura.”

“It wasn’t!” Laura shouts, taking a step closer to Carmilla so they’re practically chest to chest, “It wasn’t an accident! Something happened! There were skid marks, and, and the car’s computer was smashed. Her brakes didn’t fail, she would never fall asleep at the wheel and even if she did, she clearly tried to stop long before she hit the railing, I mean, come on.”

“Laura…”

“I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be anymore. Am I the girl with the dead mom? Am I the girl I was before I had a dead mom? Am I just broken into so many pieces I’m never going to figure out how to put myself back together again? And now this? She was here at Silas? I mean, where the hell AM I?” A raw sob rips through her throat and cuts her off. She’s shaking, but this time it isn’t because of the the cold. 

“Look, there’s no easy answer, okay? You are what you are, nothing more, nothing less. If that means you’re broken, and lost, and sad, then that’s okay. Plenty of people are fucked up and very few of them are half as strong as you,” Carmilla says.

Laura looks up at Carmilla, her eyes full of fresh tears.

“I feel like I’m just going to disappear.”

Carmilla nods and moves toward the edge of the dock, “Come on, let me show you something.”

Laura kneels down next to Carmilla, the water lapping gently at beneath them. She tries her best to breathe evenly and deeply, focusing on the way Camilla drags her fingertips through the water. She looks serene, her expression smooth and calm.

Laura finds herself leaning forward, trying to see what Carmilla sees in the murky depths.

“I grew up here, y’know. Nine months out of the year for six years. I know this place inside and out, but there is one thing I know better than anyone else…”

Suddenly Laura’s face is full of ice cold water, courtesy of Carmilla. Her heart jumps practically out of her chest and she chokes, her skin turning to pins and needles as the world thunders into sharp focus. She splutters, spitting out water as she wipes her face and blinks rapidly.

“What the hell!”

Carmilla, still neutral, raises an eyebrow at her, “Better?”

Laura takes a deep breath, ready to chew her out, and blinks. The fuzziness is gone, her heart firmly back in her chest and her head tightly fixed to her shoulders.

“I… yeah, better.”

Carmilla smiles softly and stands up, offering her hand so Laura can pull herself up. Once they’re both standing, Carmilla offers Laura her robe back, helping Laura slip it on over her wet shirt. She stops shivering almost instantly, the fabric already warm from Carmilla wearing it, and Laura finds herself smiling.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Laura shrugs, “Just, thank you.”

“No problem, cupcake.”

As they walk back to shore, Carmilla texts Danny and let’s her know she found Laura, tucking her phone back into her pocket without waiting for a response. The narrow dock forces them to walk shoulder to shoulder, their knuckles brushing as they move. Carmilla ignores it and chooses instead to focus on the ground in front of her feet, uneven with the winter rains and disuse. It’s not until she feels Laura’s hand brush against hers more intentionally that she looks at Laura out of the corner of her eye. Laura has her eyes on the ground as well, her expression one of complete and total exhaustion.

Carmilla bites her lip and moves her hand almost imperceptibly closer to Laura’s. It’s almost not enough, but Laura links their pinkies together anyway. 

They stay that way until they reach the dorms, when Carmilla stands back to hold the door open for Laura. Laura passes inside closer than she needs to, so close that the smell of her shampoo mixed with smoke lingers for a moment. Carmilla swallows and pulls the door closed softly behind them. 

Everyone is waiting outside of Laura’s room when they return, and they pile inside as soon as Laura unlocks the door. The rapid fire questions cease at the look on Carmilla’s face, but Laura smiles and tells her story anyway, wiping at her nose every so often in a way that could only be considered endearing as much as disgusting. 

Their friends listen in rapt attention, murmuring condolences and sympathies at the hard parts, reaching out to hold her hands or pat her back. Laura smiles at each of them and squeezes back and speaks as much as she can, though it isn’t much. There isn’t much to tell, to be honest, and soon enough the story is over and Perry is rising to her feet to shoo everyone out. 

Carmilla is the last to go, slipping from her spot in the corner next to Laura’s desk with a frown and a glance over her shoulder. Laura smiles at her, but doesn’t ask her to stay. 

On the other side of Laura’s door she feels suddenly unattached. Everyone has gone except for Perry, who is making sure Laura has everything she needs to survive at least the next few weeks, if not the rest of the year. Carmilla scowls and enters her own room, collapsing onto her bed without a clue of what to do next. Jeez it’s nearly one am, she could have been out for at least two more hours.

And yet she stays sprawled on her bed, playing with her nails and listening to the voices next door, until the door opens and she hears Perry wish Laura a goodnight. As soon as it closes again, all there is is her own breathing and the quiet hum of the heater in the corner of the room.

Slowly, Carmilla sits up and presses her ear to the wall. She thinks she can hear a bit of shuffling, like someone changing clothes and pulling the covers back on their bed. Very carefully, she lifts her arm and knocks softly on the wall. There’s nothing for a few seconds, and then three identical knocks, soft and somewhat slow, come back through the wall.


	12. Chapter 12

The field is soaked for Monday’s practice, two days of rain turning what once was a beautiful green into a glorified mud pit. The soccer teams dot the mess in their bright red and yellow jersey’s, muddy and wet. The coaches, Betty and Theo, stand at the edge of the field in heavy coats. Despite the terrible conditions they practice outside because the gym is still under renovation and there is nowhere else to go.

They’re halfway through their last exercise, a practice game between the two teams, and Will finally has the ball. Kirsch is running beside him, and two of their players on his other side are gesturing him to pass. One of Danny’s favorite freshman is rushing him head on, and Mel is gaining behind him.

If he kicks the ball to Kirsch they can avoid the one up front and any incoming, gain ground, and have a better chance at scoring.

But he always passes to Kirsch, doesn’t he? He’d never realized it before but nine times out of ten it’s the two of them leading the charge. Sure, it works, but isn’t it predictable and lazy, too? He should take the risk and pass someone else. The girl in front of them is already leaning that way, expecting him to pass to Kirsch. The chances of them scoring if he doesn’t pass to Kirsch are low, though. He should just pass. But he always-

Mel dodges in front of him and steals the ball. Surprised, Will tries to reclaim it, but he’s forgotten about the slick terrain. His foot slips out at an odd angle and he goes tumbling into the mud. By the time he looks up, Danny is kicking the ball into the goal for the win.

Fuck.

“Karnstein! Pass the ball next time!” Coach Theo yells.

“Dude, are you okay?” 

Kirsch is bending over him with his hand outstretched and this look on his face like someone could have died. Will flushes and pushes himself up, shaking mud off his jersey as best he can.  
“I’m fine,” he snaps, avoiding Kirsch as he storms towards the bleachers. 

“Hey, Will! Come on!” Kirsch says, chasing after him, “It’s okay. All of us lose it once in awhile. You’ll get it next time.”

“Whatever, okay? I said I’m fine.” He pulls a towel out of his bag and a clean sweatshirt, peeling off his jersey and the shirt underneath. 

“Are you? You always pass to me, and today you didn’t even once,” Kirsch says. 

“So?”

“You should’ve passed to me. It was like, your only option,” Kirsch sighs, “Come on, like, did I do something? You’ve been acting weird since the homecoming party and I am not the only one who has noticed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Will, please, is this… I mean, I sort of remember, at the party… is it because of what I said to you?”

Will stops shoving his clothes into his bag and stares at Kirsch in confusion. He remembered that? 

“What? No! Of course not,” he answers finally, his voice softer than before. Of course it wasn’t. He didn’t care what Kirsch had said. They were best friends, weren’t they? So what if Kirsch really cared about him? So what if he’d moved in close and dropped his voice and wrapped his arm around Will’s waist in a way that felt perfect and warm and the exact opposite of the way it felt when he was dancing with a girl or, or…

“So you didn’t mind?” Kirsch asks. There’s a glint of terror in his eyes that makes Will’s heart ache.

“No, man, I don’t… I don’t mind,” Will says. He feels like maybe he doesn’t know what he’s saying, that it means something more now. This feeling in his chest is so unfamiliar to him, so strong and insistent. He just wants Kirsch to be happy. 

Shit, when had that happened?

Will shakes his head to try and clear his thoughts. He didn’t do this. People were not this important to him. Sure, he understands that other people get attached and do stupid shit because of it, but that isn’t him. He isn’t weak like that. He doesn’t go around throwing himself at people. He and Kirsch are friends because it’s easy and they like the same stuff. Like mother says, people are convenient sometimes.

Kirsch looks like he wants to say something else, swaying as if he’s going to step closer but can’t make up his mind. 

“Kirsch!”

They turn in unison towards the field to find Coach Theo jogging towards them. 

“Ten minute cool down around the track. Will, that fall was magnificent, and in light of the fact it is probably 35 degrees out I’m letting you off the hook so you aren’t missing any limbs next time we have a game,” he says, “Get cleaned up and inside where it’s warm or something okay?”

Will nods and packs up his stuff. Kirsch starts to follow the coach to the track but stops.

“Can we uh, hang out after practice?” he asks, “Talk?”

“I have a paper due,” Will says.

“Oh, yeah, maybe later then.”

“Sure. Later.”

Will turns and walks away, his hands stuffed as deep into his pockets as they’ll go. He definitely doesn’t turn around and see Kirsch slouching away, and he definitely, most certainly doesn’t care.

~~~

On the other side of campus, Laura is perched on top of an empty desk in the library’s office with her knees pulled to her chest and her hands clenched together.

“There has to be something,” she exclaims, “There can’t just be nothing, there’s never nothing. School’s have more paperwork than the DMV for crying out loud!”

“Laura… I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it’s been almost a week and our searches have revealed no record of your mother at Silas,” JP says as he scrolls through the student database.

“So that’s it? You didn’t find anything?”

“Unfortunately no. Your mother is not in the system under her maternal name either. I’m sorry, she’s just not here. I’ve looked through every Samantha we’ve ever had.”

“What about Sam? She never liked Samantha growing up so maybe…”

“I already looked, Laura.”

Laura groans and flops back on the surface of the desk. She knows her mother must have been at Silas. There’s no other way she could have known that story. Why weren’t there any records? Why hadn’t anyone noticed? 

“What about the faculty records?”

“We looked at that on Tuesday.”

Laura closes her eyes. Fine. She’d… think of something. There had to be a way. She just needs to figure out what it is…

JP turns around in his chair and watches her worriedly. “I really do need to return to work.”

“Right. Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll see you at dinner,” she says.

The walk back to the dorms seems longer than usual. It probably has something to do with the fact that she’s dragging her feet, but Laura doesn’t care. She feels hollow and exhausted all over again. Couldn’t she just go one week without something monumental happened? Is that so much to ask?

She doesn’t notice Carmilla standing in front of the building until she’s right in front of her.

“Oh, hey,” Laura says, the door already half open.

“Hey.”

Laura let’s the door fall shut and moves over to lean against the wall with her, their shoulders touching in the small space on the side of the stairs. Carmilla tilts her head and observes her quietly.

“Still nothing,” she says after a moment.

“Still nothing,” Laura confirms.

“Have you considered talking to your father?” 

Laura squirms uncomfortably, “I haven’t actually talked to him for a while now. Since our, uh, fight thing.”

Carmilla frowns, “Why not?”

“He’s just... so protective, y’know? And he’s busy with his new job and I’m dealing with everything here, so… It didn’t seem like a good idea. I even called to tell him I had too much homework to go home for Thanksgiving. It’s the first one, and I’m just going to be going home to a room that’s not even mine, and there won’t even be enough time to explain everything…”

“So you’re doing it because, despite the monumental inconvenience of looking through all of the school’s records, it’s still easier than having that conversation with him?”

“I just… he doesn’t like to talk about my mom and I mean, he moved us across the country just to get me away from it and if he found out she went to school here he might… make me leave.”

Carmilla’s eyebrows shoot up, “He’d really do that?”

“Yeah… I think he might.”

They stand in silence for a long moment.

“You’ll have to tell him eventually, cupcake. It’ll be even worse if you keep it a secret.”

“I know. I’ll tell him after I find something. If I really am wrong then there’s no reason to ask and if I’m right then at least I’ll know what to say to him besides ‘hey I think mom went to this school one time but hey, maybe not!’”

“And in the meantime…”

 

“I can’t ask the one person who might know,” Laura confirms.

“Well, there’s always tomorrow, I suppose.”

Laura snorts, “You don’t mean that. You think I should give up just like everyone else. I probably should, I mean, we’ve looked everywhere. There’s nothing. The most logical thing to do would be to give up.”

“But unfortunately you won’t,” Carmilla sighs. “You will keep going until you knock yourself out trying. Even then, you’d probably keep going. And one day you will find something, and on that day you will run through this place yelling that you were right.”

“You actually think I’ll find something?” Laura asks, tilting her face up to look at Carmilla.

“I hope you do,” Carmilla responds, looking down at her softly.

“Oh.”

They stand like that for a little while longer, until Laura is colder than she is miserable and Carmilla spots Danny coming back from practice.

“See you tomorrow?” Laura asks.

“We have class,” Carmilla reminds her.

Laura shrugs, “I know.”

Carmilla shakes her head and saunters down the stairs to meet Danny. Laura watches her go, smiling slightly. Carmilla has hope. That has to be a pretty big deal right? Carmilla is the most apathetic person she knows, so if she has hope…

Then maybe there is hope.

Maybe.

~~~

Carmilla sits in the art room after class the next day with a glistening canvas on the table in front of her. It’s only recently completed, a little side project she’s been working on at night after her homework, and the paint is still wet. She traces the edges delicately, considering her work. The Shunned House is in the center, with trees growing close on either side and the water breaking along the outer walls. The moon hangs in the back like a huge ball of raw dough, the stars sharp, and the grass trampled.

“What have you got there?”

Carmilla looks up at Ruby, resident art teacher, as she comes into the class with a stack of assignments she’d taken home to grade. She’s young, mid-thirties at the oldest, and has long brunette hair with a red streak in the front. Her clothes generally fluctuate between comfy and punk, and on any given day blatantly disregard the school dress code. The drawings she’s holding look like hastily done water colors, which Carmilla fondly remembers as one of the 6th grade assignments.

“Just a painting I’ve been working on. I’m pretty sure it’s shit, though.”

Ruby comes over and squints at it, “Yeah… a little…”

Carmilla snorts and Ruby rolls her eyes.

“What do I have to do to get you to follow the rules, huh? No art shame within the walls of the sanctuary!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Carmilla mutters.

Ruby grins and tosses the assignments on a random table, “You want to help me unpack the new supplies? They’ve been sitting here for what? Two months?”

Carmilla snorts and gets up to help carry the boxes of brushes and paper over to the front table. Among them is the box that Laura had dropped off all those weeks ago. Carmilla had forgotten to let Ruby know it was there.

“Oh, a friend of mine dropped off this box of stuff they found in the basement when they were cleaning it out. It’s something to do with some old writing club,” Carmilla explains, setting it on the table with the others.

“Wow, never thought I’d get to see any of that stuff again,” Ruby remarks, peeking into the box, “Oh hey! This must be what happened to all of the final projects Ms. Taylor kept! She only kept the really good ones and I always wondered if mine made it into her pile. Ms. Taylor retired before I came back from college, and all of her stuff had been moved out of her office already. I was a TA for this club, y’know, back when you could get independent credit for helping with clubs. God, it was around for decades. Aw, look at their handwriting! No one does handwriting anymore!” She holds up an example for Carmilla, a story several pages deep with an A on the front and neat tiny handwriting with swirls over the i’s. 

Carmilla nearly drops the box of brushes she’s holding and snatches the story out of Ruby’s hand. Her eyes widen even more at the title, and wider at the name in the corner. The House on the Lake, by Samantha Rogers, signed with a heart.

Well, fuck.

“Uh, are you okay?” Ruby asks.

“Yeah, I just, I recognize this,” Carmilla says.

Someone has some serious explaining to do.

~~~

JP is doing what he usually does during his shifts at the library and minding his own business when a shadow falls across his desk. 

“I need to see old class rosters,” Carmilla says.

“I’m afraid I can’t just allow you to-”

“It’s for Laura.”

~~~

It turns out that class rosters for the years Laura’s mother might have gone to Silas aren’t actually in the computer system yet. With a bit of gentle prodding, Carmilla manages to get herself into the storage room where the boxes are kept, and under JP’s strict instructions to put everything back exactly where she found it, begins her search. JP had agreed not to tell Laura about the story until Carmilla either did or didn’t find anything, on the basis that getting her hopes up about something that might just be a coincidence could be considered cruel.

That and she’d stolen his extra set of keys.

Carmilla starts with the first possible year and works her way forward. According to JP, the club was for the younger students, so if Laura’s mother had been in it, it would have been between the ages of eleven and fourteen. 

Only Carmilla can’t actually find the club rosters for two of those years.

Laura’s mother isn’t on the ones she does find, or any of the ones for the later years, of which another is missing. Disgruntled, Carmilla looks through a few other boxes to see if they’ve been misplaced. Nothing.

For a moment she isn’t sure what to do. Should she continue looking or quit? She had proof that Laura’s mother had gone to Silas, which meant that further proof should technically exist, but the one lead she has doesn’t lead anywhere. God, why had she gotten involved with this?

Because of Laura, she thinks, because of that face she makes when she’s sad and the way she talks about her mother like they were impossibly close. Because if Laura came in here and searched through all of these boxes and found nothing, what good would it do?

She decides to go through the rosters for classes a girl interested in storytelling might take, as well as the rosters for the core classes she would have taken automatically. Had Laura seen these? Was she just retracing a dead end? 

Unlike with the club roster, of which there was only one, Carmilla has no way of knowing if the class rosters she has are all of them. There could be a missing class, and no one would even notice amongst all the other iterations of the same topic in the same term.

She’s halfway through the first box when JP appears in the doorway. He looks a little terrified and ten times more apologetic.

“The library’s closing. I can’t let you stay in an employees only area unsupervised after I lock up. I shouldn’t have let you in at all, honestly.”

“Then I’ll just take it with me,” Carmilla says, beginning to gather up the things in front of her.

“No, I’m afraid those can’t leave the library, actually,” JP reminds her, “The alarm will go off automatically and there’s no way to turn it off.”

Carmilla rolls her eyes, “Well I can’t exactly stop now, bookworm. Come on, what’s the worst I can do back here.”

“Well, I’d assume just about everything.”

Okay, so he might be a bit more intuitive than she’d anticipated.

“What if I took them out of this room but stayed in the library?” she asks.

“You’d get caught in the library! Which would be even worse!” 

“What if I didn’t get caught?”

“How?”

Carmilla lifts the box at her feet and glowers at him, “You really think this is the first time I’ve done this?”

“Wait, you’ve stayed in the library overnight?!?”

Carmilla sets the box in the hallway and goes back in another, “Off the record, hypothetically speaking, I may know someone who might know how to stay in the library overnight without getting caught, but that’s not important right now. What is important is moving these boxes before the night janitor sees us, and as far as my friend knows, he’s supposed to be here in exactly ten minutes. Move.”

“Oh this is bad, this is very, very, bad,” JP mutters as he helps her carry boxes. 

They stack the boxes neatly against the wall to make it look as if someone was in the middle of moving them or cleaning and simply hadn’t finished. When all the boxes are stacked, Carmilla takes the one she’d been looking through before and places it aside. 

“Alright, that’s it. See ya later, bookworm,” she says, taking the box and walking down the hall with it.

“Where are you going?” JP calls after her.

“Somewhere you probably shouldn’t know about. Don’t forget to lock the door behind you and keep your mouth shut,” she says over her shoulder.

“What about the alarm?” JP wonders.

“Not a problem I need to worry about,” she replies.

~~~

Carmilla’s niche is located in an undisclosed row of the history section with a window seat at the end and two empty shelves perfect for storing food, books, and humans on the off chance that someone might walk by. She’d found it the winter of her 8th grade year and quickly realized that there were no cameras that could see down the aisle when her mother failed to track her down through the security office. Ever since, she’d been using the spot to hide out when she needed to escape with a good book. Her shed was a good escape when she needed somewhere to draw or paint or scream for a while, but the library was perfect for hunkering down and ignoring everything.

She discovers after leaving JP downstairs that she has just enough room for three boxes on her empty shelf (the other being reserved for herself in case a security guard walks by) and goes back for two more. Finally settled, she picks up where she left off. There are a million papers to go through, most of them completely useless to her, and she knows she’s in for a long night.

Longer, considering the fact that none of them are giving her what she wants.

After nearly three hours of searching, Carmilla gives up. She’s checked everything twice, which is more than she does for her actual classes. God, what had this girl done to her? It was almost three in the morning and she was in the library looking through school records.

She throws the file on her lap onto the floor and leans back. She would have to take the story to Laura, who would no doubt insist on doing the research herself. She’d probably spend days sifting through the same information Carmilla had only to discover that as far as the records were concerned, Samantha Rogers had never attended Silas Academy.

And then she’d be crushed all over again.

Carmilla sighs and looks around for something to take her mind off it. In the bottom of the box closer to her is a yearbook she’d discarded in favor of more folders. Its old and dusty, probably from years and years ago. She realizes that she’s never actually looked in a yearbook, and moves to pick it up. They’re just full of pictures of people she can see in person and events she probably doesn’t care about, so she’s never bothered before. 

She flips through the first few pages with lazy interest, noting the terrible hair styles and clothes before anything else. Looks like the eighties, feels like the eighties, it even says it’s the eighties on the front of the book. How dull…

She continues looking through it for the sheer novelty when she stumbles across a page titled “clubs”.

What kind of idiotic…

Carmilla sighs and hauls herself out of the window seat. 

This is the last thing she’s looking for before she gives up.

The last.

~~~

Laura wakes to pounding on her door. She sits up in bed and rubs her eyes sleepily, looking over at the clock so that she can properly question why someone is waking her up at five thirty in the morning. Seriously, what was going on?

Things get considerably weirder when she opens the door and finds a scruffy, grouchy Carmilla standing there in the clothes she was wearing yesterday.

“Uh…” Laura says.

“Come with me,” Carmilla says, “Get shoes, a coat, whatever.”

“Uuuuh….”

“Laura, this is not the time to act like this isn’t the kind of scenario you daydream about in my sister’s class, okay?”

“I totally don’t- It’s five thirty in the morning, Carm!”

“Yeah, and the head librarian shows up at seven to make sure everything is in the right place, and if we don’t hurry I won’t be able to show you the picture of your mother that I just found,” Carmilla snaps.

Laura stares at her in awe, “You found a picture of my mother?”

“Technically I found a picture of you from 1984, so yes I think I probably found a picture of your mother.”

Laura scrambles for her keys, “Why didn’t you say that first?”

“Because I’m exhausted!”

Laura throws on her coat and rushes out of her room, “Show me!”

“Laura!”

“What?!”

Carmilla rolls her eyes, “Shoes!”

~~~

Carmilla leads Laura to the back door of the library. It’s still dark outside, and the first layer of winter snow coats the ground. Laura’s eyes widen when Carmilla pulls the back-up keys out of her pocket and unlocks the door, but she definitely doesn’t hesitate to squeeze inside where it’s warm and dry.

“Where did you get those?” She hisses.

“Took them. I’ll put them back. Eventually.”

Carmilla ignores Laura’s disapproving look and walks quickly towards the stairs. Laura, unable to think of a reason she needs to return them right now, follows. Carmilla is swaying on her feet, and Laura is honestly a little worried about her considering they are breaking into the library in the wee hours of the morning. However, she’s more interested in the promised photo, which means continuing despite the possible repercussions. 

Carmilla’s niche is empty, the boxes replaced in the “Employees Only” room they’d been taken from. Carmilla nods to the window seat and pulls a book off the shelf.

“You’re going to want to sit down for this.”

Laura sits, her hands folded nervously in her lap. She nearly leaps at the book when Carmilla sits down beside her, but the way Carmilla leans against her makes her stop. The book is set on her lap and opened to a page in the middle. In the upper left corner is a picture of a group of kids with notebooks and pencils, one of which is eerily familiar. 

“Mom…” Laura reaches out and traces the photo with her fingertips, her hands shaking as she swallows around the lump in her throat. Beside her Carmilla shifts so that she’s facing Laura more than the book.

“I found a story she wrote in that box you brought to the art room,” Carmilla whispers, “So I convinced JP to let me look at the paper records and I eventually found this.”

“She really did go here,” Laura murmurs, blinking rapidly, “She was here, Carm!”

“Yep, but fun fact, her photo isn’t with her class. I think she must have only gone here for a few months, never finished a term. That’s why we couldn’t find any record of her,” Carmilla explains.

“You… you did all of this for me?” 

Carmilla shrugs, “What are friends for?”

Laura nods, her lip trembling. Carmilla leans over to get a better look at her face and nudges her. When Laura looks up Carmilla pulls a piece of paper from her pocket and spreads it out on the book. It’s a picture of herself from way back in middle school that had been printed in the paper. She’s only a year or two older than her mother, and the resemblance is uncanny.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Carmilla whispers. “You look just like her, Laura.”

“People always said we could have been twins,” Laura says, her voice cracking.

“Yeah, see? Just like I said. You’ll always look like her, Laura. You’re part of her, in a weird sort of way. And now you have this. She was here just like you. Technically… you’re kind of a legacy.”

Laura’s nodding but no words are coming out. She can’t believe it. They found her. They actually found her. A full blown sob rips its way out of her throat and her shoulders shake violently.

“Hey, Laura, it’s okay,” Carmilla says quietly. 

“I miss her so much, Carm.” 

Carmilla sighs and reaches out, allowing Laura to curl into her chest and cry as hard as she needs to. One arm wraps around Laura’s waist and the other tangles in her hair, her weight laying solidly against Carmilla’s torso. Carmilla leans back so that her back is against the wall, pulling Laura forward until she’s almost in Carmilla’s lap.

Laura snuggles farther into Carmilla, her arms wrapping tightly around Carmilla’s back. Her ear is pressed against Carmilla’s chest and she can hear her heart beating slow and steady beneath her shirt. The feeling of Carmilla holding her tightly, stroking her hair, being alive and real right in front of her, is the most comforting thing she’s felt in a very long time.

It takes nearly half an hour for Laura to cry it out, by which point the fingers skating through her hair have stopped to rest against the back of her head. She wipes her eyes and pushes her hair out her face, feeling the rise and fall of Carmilla’s chest beneath her.

“Carmilla? Thank you. You didn’t have to do this and I know it’s really not your thing so… just… thanks.”

When there’s no response, Laura lifts her head and smiles slowly. Carmilla is asleep, her face soft and peaceful in the light of the rising sun coming through the window. Laura rests her head back against Carmilla’s collarbone and shifts closer.

Yeah, okay, five more minutes.


	13. Chapter 13

It snows the last day of classes, heavy, wet, flakes that crush the meager inches on the ground in drifts and banks of epic proportion. Students trudge back and forth to their finals in heavy coats and goggles, praying that their parents will still be able to pick them up. The groundskeeper dusts off the snowplow and gets to work, despite his vacation plans, and manages to carve a path down the hill to the closest town.

By noon, the storm is over, the sun is out, and everything is just a bit shorter.

Mattie packs her things slowly. There’s something bittersweet about saying goodbye all over again. Carmilla and Will, Perry, her first real students, her first real desk, all of it is ending. When she’d left the first time, she’d been leaving cliques and heartbreak and high school. That hadn’t been hard. 

She pauses with her fingertips on a card her students had made for her, smiling at the way Carmilla had signed her name partially over Laura’s. 

This was going to be hard.

There’s a knock on the door and Mattie looks up to find Perry standing in the doorway with a small purple box wrapped in yellow ribbon. They haven’t talked much in the last few weeks, both of them being busy with responsibilities and life. Unfortunately, that hadn’t made much difference in the way Mattie feels, her heart still speeding up as she takes in the sight of Perry’s winter jacket and earmuffs, her hair dusted with snowflakes and her cheeks red. Mattie smiles and beckons for Perry to come in.

“I assume you’re finished for the term?” She asks as Perry approaches the desk.  
“Yes, finally. We’re actually going home in just a little while. But first, I wanted to bring you these.”

Perry holds the box out and waits patiently as Mattie comes around the desk to take it from her and open it. Inside are a myriad of candies and treats, some winter themed and some school themed and some simply delicious looking.

“I always give them out at the end of the term to all my teachers,” Perry explains.

“Well, isn’t that lovely,” Mattie laughs.

“I know you aren’t technically one of my teachers, but I wanted to congratulate you on your first successful student teaching position.”

Mattie nods, setting the box gently next to her things to take home, “Thank you.”

Perry smiles, wandering forward a step or two, “So, you’ve completed your teaching? I heard some students discussing it in the hallway. You aren’t coming back.”

“No, I’ll be finishing up a few classes on campus next term. Due to my record they allowed me to teach two classes at once, which means I have all the teaching experience I’m required to have now.” 

“Right. Well. I suppose this is goodbye then.”

Perry seems nervous, her hands twisting together as she purses her lips and looks at the floor. Mattie leans against her desk, her nails tapping against the hardwood.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” she replies gently.

“Of course, I’ll just… let you get back to your… things,” Perry says. She turns quickly and slips out the door, the latch clicking into place behind her. Mattie sighs and stands, stretching briefly before turning back to the task at hand. The box catches her eye again. She reaches out and plays with the ribbon. It’s such a simple thing, she imagines, and yet it means so much more than anyone could know.

The door flies back open and Mattie jumps back from the box. Perry takes two quick steps inside, stopping short in front of Mattie. They stare at each other, and then in no time at all Perry is throwing her arms around Mattie’s neck. Mattie quickly wraps her arms around Perry’s waist and holds her close, her eyes fluttering closed. 

Perry pulls away with as innocent a look as she can muster and carefully straightens out the collar of Mattie’s blouse. 

“I should… go, um, it was, good to have you here,” she says softly.

“I’m glad I came back,” Mattie replies, her eyes tracking the way Perry bites her lip and the way her eyes flicker back and forth along Mattie’s collarbones. Her hands are still gently placed on Perry’s waist, Perry’s delicately resting on her forearms.

“Your students all love, you, you know,” Perry says, “They think you’re one of the best teachers Silas has ever had.”

“Well, they were some of the best students a teacher could ask for.”

Perry nods and takes a step back, her arms coming up to wrap around herself. Mattie folds her own hands in front of herself, regaining just a bit of her formal attitude due to the open door. Perry smiles and finally, finally looks up at her.

“Goodbye,” Perry says firmly.

“Goodbye, darling.” 

Perry flushes faintly and turns on her heel, pulling the door closed behind her. Mattie stands perfectly still and watches the door. After several quiet moments, she chuckles and goes back to her packing.

That girl…

~~~

Laura is just about finished packing when Carmilla slinks into her doorway and leans there to watch. Laura smiles at her and shoves a particularly pesky sweater into her bag. Once again all her things are in boxes, preparing for the move to the new dorms. They’d only officially given them the news at the end of last week, and some kids still didn’t know their room assignments. Thankfully, Laura had gotten hers two days ago, though Carmilla hadn’t. 

At least the new dorms will be finished, she thinks, it could definitely be worse. 

“One more bag, and I’m officially free,” Laura says, “What about you? Did you finish packing?”

“No. It’s tedious.”

“But all our stuff has to be out by today!”

Carmilla shrugs and wanders into Laura’s room to stretch out on her futon. Laura rolls her eyes and continues packing. Ever since that morning in the library, Carmilla had probably spent more time on that futon than even her own room. Not that Laura minds, of course. Having Carmilla around is nice, comforting even, especially after everything she did to help Laura find her mom. 

Laura finally manages to fit all of her winter clothes into her suitcase and triumphantly zips it up, flopping onto her bed in exhaustion.

“I still can’t believe they don’t even give us a day to clear out after finals. I was up until three cramming,” she complains.

“They can’t afford the extra utilities and staff, even for twenty four hours,” Carmilla says.

“Well that’s comforting,” Laura mutters.

Carmilla snorts, “And here I thought you were the optimist.”

Laura shakes her head and surveys the stack of boxes sitting next to her door, “I still don’t know how I’m going to carry this all over to the new building. I should ask Kirsch if he could drive me over there. He’s driving us to the train station so he probably wouldn’t mind.”

“I could have my mother’s minions do it,” Carmilla says.

“Wait, like, actually? Does your mother have minions for everything?”

“She’s a rich and powerful businesswoman. Of course she does.”

Oh. Right.

“I still think it’s weird I’ve never met her. She’s like, on the board and stuff, right? I thought she was around all the time?”

“She doesn’t necessarily come to see us just because she’s here. She says it makes it easier for all of us to stay focused if we see each other as little as possible while we’re at school. She doesn’t want to confuse us or something.”

Laura grimaces. Wow. Harsh. Though she supposes she’s been doing the same thing with her dad...

“Well, I mean, if her minions wouldn’t mind…” she says, directing the conversation back to the matter at hand. Carmilla hates talking about her mother, and Laura isn’t about to question her endlessly on their last day. They won’t be back for nearly four weeks. Who knows how much they’ll see each other? She wants these last few minutes to be… nice.

“I’ll let them know. They’re going to be here in… about half an hour to pick Will and I up,” Carmilla says, checking the time.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to be leaving... in like ten minutes, wow, okay,” Laura realizes. She jumps up and starts getting her things together, throwing on her coat and boots as well as her favorite grey beanie. She fiddles with her keys for a moment before turning to Carmilla and holding them out.

“Should I… I mean, we’re supposed to turn them in but if you still need to get in…”

Carmilla smirks and takes the keys, “I’ve got it covered, cupcake.”

“How can you just be… so relaxed about this?”

“Well, it isn’t exactly my first time,” Carmilla drawls, giving Laura one of those looks that makes her face hot and her hands fidget.

“Right, so, about that… Do you like, see friends over the break usually? Cause I was thinking we could hang out or something if you’re not busy or whatever.” 

Carmilla looks over at Laura, her eyes narrowed like she’s thinking very carefully about something. Laura nervously fiddles with the zippers on her bag, suddenly wondering if she’s crossing some boarding school line no one told her about. After all, they haven’t talked about hanging out over the break even once. Whenever Laura asks what Carmilla is doing for the holidays she waves her hand vaguely and mutters something about dinner parties. 

Laura’s train of thought is broken suddenly by the appearance of Perry in the doorway. She’s laden down with clipboards and a stack of check out sheets, mandatory for everyone to fill out on their exit from the dorms.

“JP and LaFontaine are waiting downstairs for Kirsch whenever you’d like to join them. I just need to drop these off and then we’ll be ready to go. Do you have a ride Carmilla? I’m sure we could squeeze in one more,” she says.

“I’m good,” Carmilla groans. Just the thought of being in that truck gives her a headache.

“I’ll be down in a minute Perry,” Laura reassures her. Perry looks between them and nods quickly, sweeping out of sight as fast as she’d appeared.

Laura sighs and shoulders her backpack, “I guess I better go, don’t want to keep them waiting down there…”

Carmilla stretches and hops up from the couch, twirling Laura’s keys around her finger. She brushes passed Laura, but then stops in the doorway.

“First couple of days home are usually pretty busy, but I’ll text you when I’m free,” she says. Laura’s eyes grow wide and she nearly drops her bag.

“Yeah, sure, of course,” Laura assures her, or herself, or something. 

Carmilla smiles. “Well, then. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.” With that she disappears around the corner into her own room to finish packing. Laura waits until she leaves the room to pump her fist in victory. 

Then, remembering she has somewhere to be, she grabs her suitcase and hurries downstairs. Getting home first, being excited later, she tells herself.

~~~

Laf and JP stand at the window in the lobby, their bags piled next to them in a disorganized disaster. They’re supposed to be watching for Kirsch but the sun and snow combo is practically blinding. 

“I’m just saying if he wanted us to do a composite graph for our research he should have mentioned that! How am I supposed to know?” Laf complains.

“Fair point. Our composition teacher gave us the most vague instructions she could. Simply wanted an essay. Then it turns out, no, she wants an essay that showcases everything we learned in the class. Even the optional portions!” JP agrees.

“See, that’s what I don’t get, how are we supposed to do well if…” Laf stops and squints out the window. Mattie is walking across the parking lot towards a sleek black sedan. Nope, not Kirsch, Laf thinks, going to turn away again. Then something catches their attention. Under her arm is a purple box with yellow ribbon, one that Laf is certain they’ve seen before. 

“No way,” they hiss.

“What? Is something the matter?” JP asks. He looks out the window and raises his eyebrows.

“Ah. Yes. I see.”

“Why would she have given Mattie cookies?”

JP shrugs. “Perhaps it’s a thank you, for being so cooperative.”

“But she’d… she’d tell us right?”

“Tell us what?”

“If she and Mattie were… y’know!”

JP makes a distressed face. “Do you think that’s possible?”

“She only gives cookies to teachers she actually has so… I mean, there has to be a reason right?”

JP shrugs.

“Look, last time she didn’t tell me for a year,” Lafontaine grimaces, “Not until I found her curled up on the bathroom floor like a wounded specimen everyone wanted to stare at. It’s been three years and people still talk about how she’s ‘that’ girl. I mean, she’s the school mom and everyone loves her for it, but they still talk, y’know? If she’s hiding things again…”

“Then it follows that something is going on….” JP realizes.

“Exactly. Now you weren’t around much for all of this the first time around since we had just started hanging out, but I don’t think she ever let go of that. She hasn’t dated anyone since and for the most part hasn’t even been interested. There’s a real possibility that Mattie being here has sparked that… thing, again.”

“And you think they…”

“I mean, maybe? I don’t exactly know the specifics or-”

“Alright, you two! Laura’s on her way down and… what?” Perry stops at the bottom of the stairs, forms still piled high in her arms and a confused look on her face. JP quietly removes himself from the situation, thinking it best that the two friends speak privately. Lafontaine, with a very serious frown on their face, walks slowly closer.

“You gave Mattie cookies?” they ask softly.

Perry’s eyes widen and she nearly drops the forms in her arms. She does her best to play off the surprise, shuffling the papers back into a neat stack and straightening up into her best calm posture.

“To congratulate her on a term well done. She’s not coming back, so I felt it was appropriate to give her a parting gift. From all of us at Silas,” Perry explains primly.

“From all of us?”

“Well, of course. It’s not like she and I… Why else would I… it’s not like I personally have a reason to give her a box of assorted sweets, Lafontaine!” 

“I never said you did, Per. It’s just, you never even mentioned it. I was in the kitchen with you while you were listing everyone’s names last night and her’s never came up,” Laf tries to explain. They’re just worried about her, honest! It’s not like they’re going to start anything with Mattie. Especially not five minutes from freedom.

“I thought of it last minute,” Perry dismisses, “I always make a few extra, you know that.”

Outside, Kirsch’s truck pulls into the first available spot. 

“I need to leave these in the office before we can go,” Perry says, turning to flee.

“Perry!” Lafontaine calls after her, jogging to catch up.

Perry ignores them, briskly making her way into the office. The space is small and the window where students are usually helped is closed, giving them at least a little bit of privacy. Perry stops by the filing cabinet and begins sorting the forms, her movements rushed and mechanical. Laf slips in after her and closes the door.

“Per, come on, I know something’s up. You look like someone just accused you of changing grades,” they say.

“I just don’t understand why it has to be a big deal. It’s a box of sweets. It’s harmless. Besides there’s nothing going on between Mattie and I. We talked, and we agreed that that wasn’t what either of us wanted,” Perry rambles.

Laf’s eyes narrow.

“You… agreed? With her? You had a conversation... about a potential relationship. Wow. Okay. Clearly I am in the wrong thinking there MIGHT be a thing. There’s definitely a thing,” Lafontaine snaps. 

“LaFontaine!”

“You can’t talk about nothing, Perry! Which means there’s obviously a thing, and you lied to me about it!”

Perry sighs and closes the filing cabinet, “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. You always get so upset whenever it comes up and then it takes you hours to calm down again.”

“Seriously? Of course I’m upset! I nearly lost you Perry!”

“But you didn’t! I’m not going anywhere, LaFontaine. I promise! Why isn’t that enough?”

“Because we don’t keep secrets, Per! We tell each other everything, especially things like this. How am I supposed to trust you if you keep things from me?”

Perry’s mouth draws into a line, her eyebrow quirked dangerously. Of all the entitled, brattish…

“Mattie and I had one conversation, due to the fact we work out of the same office with the same people where we are all expected to be civil and comfortable with our coworkers. It took all of thirty seconds, and since it was just a reiteration of our first conversation, which you knew about, I hardly thought it necessary to go around gossiping about our, specifically her, private business. There was nothing to tell, Lafontaine, and how am I supposed to trust you, if you won’t listen to a word I say?”

Lafontaine frowns deeply, “I’d listen if you ever said anything, and it’s not gossiping if-”

Perry cuts them off with a hand, “If it’s not gossip, then act like it.”

She sweeps out of the room, Laf scowling as they follow closely behind.

~~~

Kirsch leans against his truck, squinting up at the dorms with a pensive look on his face. He’s restless, anxious even, and there’s only one thing that’s going to get the football sized ache off his chest. Something kinda impossible, maybe. 

It doesn’t take long for Will to come slouching out the front doors, his hair smushed under a red team beanie and his hands shoved in the pockets of his sleek black parka. He trudges through the snow, a faint and distant smile on his lips, until he’s standing on the curb next to Kirsch’s truck. He surveys the truck, yawns, and tries to squish further into his coat.

“You heading out then?” he asks. He avoids looking Kirsch in the eye. In fact he’s been avoiding Kirsch for a while now, trying to figure out why he’s so messed up about him, but in the end it just made everything worse. He found himself moping, actually moping, about it. After that he’d been even more determined to stay away, and yet, as the evidence would suggest, he just couldn’t. 

It’s infuriating to know that someone was able to get under his skin like this, much less his best friend. He still doesn’t know why or how he started feeling so close to Kirsch, or how to get it to stop. Maybe it’s just home-sickness. Maybe he just needs to go home and chill for a week and then everything will be back to normal.

“Yeah, just waiting for some of Danny’s friends. Laura, the little one? She texted me this morning to see if I could give them a lift to the train station. The bus isn’t going cause of the snow and their parents are all at work I guess,” Kirsch explains.

“Dude, do you even know who they are?” Will laughs. It surprises him how easily he begins to smile, and he tries to school his features into something more neutral. He fails miserably and settles for looking at the ground instead.

“Uh, yeah? I mean, sort of… I don’t need to know them to want to help them, though.”

“Right, of course not,” Will says, kicking over a snow drift next to his foot.

“We have room for one more…”

“Sorry, Mom sent goons to help us move our stuff to the new dorms.”

“Yeah, awesome, okay then,” Kirsch says quickly. There’s this hesitance in his voice and a weird tightness in his jaw that Will doesn’t understand. It makes his heartbeat kick it up a few notches, and his hands curl into fists in his pockets.

“So, uh, any particular reason you texted me to come out here?” Will asks.

“Oh, no, just to let you know I’m leaving or whatever. Haven’t seen you much in the last couple of weeks so I just thought we could touch base, maybe figure out when we’re hanging out over break.”

“I mean, whenever? Like I don’t plan on doing anything but sleeping and playing Fallout 4 for the entire break so just text before you head over.” Will shrugs.

“Yeah, sure, so, about that other thing though… Like, everything’s cool with you? Finals didn’t kick your ass or anything?”

“Nope. I think I aced most of them. You know how tough Mom is about grades.”

Kirsch just nods, looking out over the parking lot. It’s deserted, most of the other kids having headed out the night before or as soon as class got out. It’s the perfect moment, and yet he has no idea what to say.

“What about you?” Will asks, “You seem kinda… I don’t know…”

“Yeah, I’ve just got some stuff on my mind. I don’t know if you remember but, like, we never talked after practice and it’s sort of been getting to me?”

“Shit, yeah, sorry. Things have just been super busy y’know?”

“Yeah, totally. I understand.”

Will frowns. He hates to see Kirsch so upset, and he hates that he hates it too. Why couldn’t this just be easy?

“So did you want to talk about it now?” He prompts, despite his inclination to run very fast in the other direction.

Kirsch nods and licks his lips, standing from his relaxed position against the truck, “So we’ve been bros for a really long time right?”

“Yeah, like, six years or something.”

“And we’re best bros, and that means we’ve got each other’s backs all the time.”

“Sure…”

“So like, what if… what if that changed?”

Will swallows, his mouth suddenly dry, “I mean, why would it?”

Kirsch steps forward, the tips of his shoes hitting the curb that Will is standing on. Will finds himself looking into Kirsch’s eyes, the curb practically eliminating their height difference. He thinks that he should step back, break eye contact, anything to get himself away from whatever idiocy is twisting his guts into knots, but there’s something else in him that wants nothing more than for Kirsch to step closer until there isn’t any space between them at all.

Instead, Kirsch reaches up and cups the back of Will’s head, his fingers sliding through Will’s hair as he pulls him closer, his other hand pressing against Will’s hip to keep Will steady. He doesn’t have a lot of balance with his hands in his pockets, but he makes up for it in the soft, easy way he leans into Kirsch’s touch, his eyes closing even as he feels the panic in his chest reach the tipping point. Their lips brush softly, and then Kirsch tilts his chin at just the right angle to bring them together.

No one had ever told Will it was going to be like this. 

There’s a click, a rush, an entirely overbearing feeling that nothing will ever be the same, and then the whole world is crashing down around them. Kirsch is a force acting against him, acting with him, as they align together. There’s fire in his skin and electricity in his veins that jolt him back into control, the fog of lust and attraction giving way to perfectly crystal thought.

Holy shit. What the hell is he doing?

Will steps backward, wriggling out of Kirsch’s arms and back onto the sidewalk. His face is flushed, his breath coming out in small white puffs. Kirsch’s eyes are wide and frightened, but Will can’t bring himself to care. He shakes his head, trying to think of something to say, but there are no words for the the things all jumbled up inside of him.

He turns and flees, passing the dorm without a second thought. Kirsch watches him disappear in the direction of the dining hall with a sinking heart. He should have known Will didn’t feel the same way. He should have known to keep his feelings to himself.

Now what?

~~~

When Laura comes down the stairs, dwarfed by her suitcase and three bags, JP is the only one standing in the lobby. He’s sitting in front of the fire, his ear turned toward the office at the other end of the room, and a worried look on his face. Laura sits down across from him, dropping her things into a spectacularly messy pile.

“Where’s Laf?” she asks. 

“Perry and Laf are filing the student reports and should be back shortly,” JP says, smiling in his quiet way. Laura nods.

“So, um, I just wanted to thank you for letting Carmilla stay in the library the other day,” she says after a moment.

“Oh, certainly. Though it made me a tad nervous, I’m glad you found what you were looking for.”

“Yeah. It really… helped, I think.”

The office door opens, Laf and Perry emerging quietly into the lobby. Perry looks frazzled, Laf exhausted. 

“Whoa, what happened?” Laura asks.

“Filing. Never trust the paperwork,” Laf says.

“Kirsch is waiting for us,” Perry adds with a glance out the window, “Come on, we’ll miss the train.”

Piled into Kirsch’s truck, with the heater blasting and their bags tucked safely in the back, Laura finally feels it sinking in. She’s going home, well, to her new home, anyway. Technically. She doesn’t know, exactly, what the apartment in the city is going to be. If she spends most of her year at Silas, won’t that be home? 

She’s staring out the window, her brow furrowed in thought, when the door of the dorm swings open and Carmilla steps out into the snow. She spots the truck and stops, her long hair only half-tamed beneath her hat and curling in the wind. 

Laura smiles and presses her hand to the window. Carmilla, recognizing the gesture, raises her own hand in a subtle wave. 

Laura watches until they’ve turned the corner out of sight, and then sinks down into her seat. 

So, this is it, she thinks, today is the day to see the new apartment, her Dad…

Back at the dorm, Carmilla stands quietly at the top of the front steps, her hand held close to her shoulder as she stares into the distance.

She’s been slipping since she woke up with Laura pressed against her chest, Laura’s soft breathing the only sound in the world, their hands having sought each other out at some point during the impromptu nap to lay over Carmilla’s heart. 

From there, they’d only grown closer to each other. They’d even ordered pizza for Thanksgiving and smuggled it into the dorms, eating on the floor of Laura’s room while they watched The X-Files and discussed the merits of wearing socks to bed. Eventually Laura had fallen asleep curled up in a pile of blankets and stuffed animals, the glow of her laptop casting long shadows around the room. 

Carmilla, due to her nocturnal habits, hadn’t fallen asleep for several more hours. She’d sat against Laura’s dresser, sketching the family photo sitting on Laura’s desk, and just generally relaxing with her face in the moonlight. They looked happy in the photo, Laura on her mother’s lap and her father making a silly face. Every little while Carmilla would look over at Laura, just to check, and each time she was sleeping soundly. She hoped it would stay that way, for as long as possible at least.

She left the sketch on the desk and slipped out before Laura woke up to clear her head.

It hadn’t really helped.

Without her usual methods to rely on, such as burning her bridges and never looking back, Carmilla had decided to make a compromise with herself. Laura wanted to be friends? Fine, they’d be friends, but anything beyond that is out of the question. She can’t let herself hope for even a second that Laura might fall for her. Hell, she doesn’t want to hope. The two of them falling in love could only ever be a disaster.

Carmilla shakes her head and saunters down the steps toward the administrative building on the other side of the parking lot. It’s almost time for her mother’s goons to arrive and she can’t be thinking about star-crossed love when they’re watching her. 

In fact, she’s not going to think about it at all.

~~~

It’s a short drive to the train station and from there they make a mad dash for the platform. They load in with three minutes to spare, nothing like Perry’s planned twenty, and fall into a group of seats near the door. The ride into the city is only forty minutes, but Laura still finds herself restless. She spends at least half of the ride staring out the window, her leg bouncing energetically as she tries to mentally prepare herself for seeing her dad again.

Carmilla’s right, she tells herself, it’ll be good. There will be time to talk and settle in and he’ll totally take the news about her mother like a champ.

And she believes it, she really does.

It’s just, she wishes it had already happened, y’know?

When the train pulls into the station she’s momentarily distracted by the sheer number of people walking around the platform. It’s been ages since she was in a big city, and the small, confined Silas campus doesn’t help the transition in the slightest. Perry quickly herds them towards the exit, all the while counting their bags and remind Laf to put at LEAST their jacket, if not their coat, back on.

Laura let’s herself be guided out to the main entrance of the station, her eyes scanning the crowd with a focus usually reserved for three am on a Friday night. When she doesn’t immediately see her father she pulls out her phone to text him. He’d replied to her that morning confirming the time but she’d been too anxious to check her phone after that. There are three texts from Carmilla, all variations of “bored” but nothing from her father. 

“Hey Laura, that guy is waving at you!” Laf says suddenly.

Laura looks up and sure enough her dad is standing at the edge of the crowd. He looks a little thin, and his beard has grown scraggly, but Laura would recognize those glasses and that smile anywhere. Plus she’s definitely worn that flannel, even if it is too big.

Laura doesn’t realize she’s dropped her bags until she’s being picked up in the best bear hug of her life.

~~~

As the sun dips below the hills, Silas Academy lies dormant. The dorms are dark and locked, the walkways void of their usual traffic. All will be quiet until the return of the students in the new year.

Across the lake, on a small property with a boathouse, a black Mercedes is parked on what was once a long driveway at the edge of the lake. It’s lights are off, the shade of the trees making it almost impossible to see, and if the tinted windows reveal little about who may or may not be in it. 

An equally black Maserati pulls into the driveway and rolls slowly down to the lakefront until it is even with the mercedes. The engine cuts off, the lights fading. The door swings open and Morgana Dean steps out of the car, her black power suit blending perfectly into the approaching night.

The driver’s door of the Mercedes opens and a young man steps out. He then turns and opens the back passenger door, holding it as an elderly gentleman with a cane stands out of the car. The gentleman takes a modest step or two towards Morgana, and offers his hand.

“Ms. Dean, I’m so glad to visit finally, after all these months.”

“Likewise, Mr. Vordenburg. Unfortunately, the activity on campus has delayed us this far, but soon enough all the little children will be off to their shiny new campus and we’ll have the whole thing to ourselves,” Morgana says. 

“Of course, of course. Our presence too early could very well give us away. I commend your forethought.”

“Now that it is the winter holiday, I can of course give you a tour of the intended target.”

“That would be lovely. I can already tell our partnership is going to be fruitful for us both.”

“As is the intention. If you would just follow me to the boathouse.”

With the chauffeur in tow, the two walk down to the boathouse and slip inside. Sometime later a motor growls to life from within, and a small speedboat goes dashing out across the water. In mere moments it is docked at the shunned house, it’s occupants disappearing from view within.

The sun sinks under the horizon, and like always, the lake is bathed in starlight.


	14. Chapter 14

Laura had grown up in a royal blue house at the end of Jefferson street in a small town thirty minutes outside of Toronto. It was a small two bedroom with more windows than walls, a vegetable garden, and a second floor that had been carefully whittled out of a shallow attic by the previous owners. There, at the top of a cramped staircase, was Laura’s room.

The singular window on the south side was preceded by a bed and framed by long, sloping ceiling. Posters and polaroid pictures plastered every surface, washed out and metallic in the sunlight that always hit the bed at just the right angle for a sleepy afternoon reading Harry Potter on top of the covers. 

It was in that room that her mother had first laid her down in a satin yellow crib, there on her bed that Laura performed her first puppet show for her enraptured parents, there on the floor that she lost her first tooth, and there in the corner where she built her first bookcase. After high school started, she’d escape the world curled up in her bean bag chair with her laptop and a list of fic recs, her homework half forgotten beside her. Once upon a time she’d even kissed Tori Richards in a fort they’d built against the bed, and she’d cried there too when Tori Richards broke her heart.

It was Saturdays that mattered the most. On Saturdays, Laura’s mother would climb the stairs with two mugs of hot chocolate. The digital alarm clock with built in radio, perpetually set to Oldies 105 FM, would be softly crooning from the bedside table. Laura always pretended she didn’t hear it those mornings, opting to stay in bed until her mother crawled in beside her and placed a soft kiss on top of her head. There, with their mugs and the morning light flashing across the backyard, Laura would question her mother about her latest assignment, the places she’d been over the last week, the people she’d met, until Laura’s father called them down for pancakes.

The dorm room had come mostly furnished. Bed, desk, dresser, a list of things she couldn’t hang on the walls. Her father had stopped at an Ikea on their way into the city and they’d wandered around for a few hours picking out things like new sheets and curtains, her school supplies, a whiteboard for her door. When they’d arrived and unpacked the car, only four boxes came with her, and the rest stayed in the car. Silas was new, it was Laura in the moment, and the rest of her life stayed behind.

The new apartment is a different story.

~~~~  
Laura wakes to blank walls and half-opened boxes. Her eyes shift from the door to the window and the cloudy sky beyond, to the junk spread across the floor. 

She frowns and rolls over to face the wall. 

The apartment is the last one at the end of the floor, which means on the other side of the wall there is nothing but air and a long drop to the city street below. Twice she’d caught herself listening for a faint rumbling bassline or hard and fast guitar, and each time she’d checked her phone and sighed.

After three months of always having someone there, she figures it’s only natural to miss the things that were familiar to her. Plus, Carmilla is one of her best friends, and they’d gone from seeing each other everyday to barely talking for nearly four. Who wouldn’t feel a little lonely?

Laura groans, trying to stretch the knot of stress out of her stomach, and slips out of bed. Her Silas sweatshirt is on the floor where she dropped it last night beside a stack of books yet to be shelved and a half eaten box of cookies. Laura pulls the sweatshirt over her head, ignoring the chocolate stain on the sleeve, and runs her hand through her hair. Her eyes threaten to close with every passing moment, but somehow, by some force of will, she manages to shuffle out of her room and down the hall.

Her father is sitting at the breakfast table, his dishes neatly pushed to the side in lieu of the morning paper, his coffee drowned with cream and sugar. He doesn’t hear her approach, and Laura takes the opportunity to lean against the wall and observe. His clothes hang off his frame with room to spare, and Laura is sure that his beard trimmers, the whole beard maintenance package actually, are still packed away somewhere. His smile, which he’d always prided himself on genetically predisposing Laura to “thank you very much”, never moves beyond his chapped lips.

He hasn’t laughed even once all weekend, either.

When he finally looks up and realizes Laura is standing there, he tilts his head in confusion.

“You’re up early.”

Laura shrugs and sits down across from him at the table, “I forgot to turn my alarm off.” 

“And you didn’t go back to sleep? It’s a miracle!” he teases. Laura smiles softly. Ever since they’d left the train station, he’s been doing his best to be his old self. 

Which is why she hasn’t asked whether he knew about her mom having gone to Silas. 

Laura knows that eventually she’ll have to bring it up. The words had almost tripped off her tongue more than once already, but every time that sad look in her dad’s eye held her back. They’d had good moments the last couple days. He’d helped her unpack her stuff from school, gone over all the good restaurants nearby when they decided to get take-out on Saturday, even made her his famous pancake breakfast two days in a row. Before that they hadn’t even really talked for a month and a half. What if bringing up her mom and Silas just made things worse again?

After all, neither of them had mentioned her yet.

“Well, I’ve got to get going. The bus comes in fifteen minutes and let me tell ya, it’s a bit of a walk,” her dad says. He stands and clears his plates before gathering up a small briefcase and a long coat under his arm, “You got anything planned for today?”

“I’ll figure something out,” Laura reassures him. She’d laid in bed last night for almost an hour wondering if she should invite Carmilla over. Carmilla had said she’d text when she was free, and though they’d definitely been texting, there’d been zero indication of when Carmilla would be able to escape her “familial obligations”. 

“Oh! I left the number of the landlady and the neighbor on the fridge just in case, but remember to call me if anything happens.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know.”

Once he’s out the door, Laura meanders around the kitchen for a while. There’s nothing to do except unpack. Laura grimaces, her hands flexing so hard the tendons in her wrists ache. Even the word “unpack” sticks in her throat. It’s like she’s waiting it out until she can move on to where she’s really headed, like the apartment is just a layover in some strange city where no one knows her name.

Eventually she puts together a light breakfast and treks back to her room. She eats in bed, watching the day pass out her window, and then picks half-heartedly through a few boxes. So far she’s found a scooby-doo poster, old stuffed animals, and middle-grade chapter books, all of which seem small and childish. Like it all belongs in some other life and some other time. How is she supposed to unpack if she can’t even decide where things go?

Laura sighs and sits back, glancing at her phone on her bed. She knows Carmilla doesn’t usually wake up until after noon, so there’s probably no real chance of her answering this early in the morning. 

Which leaves her exactly where she started, staring at the boxes and coming up blank.

All of a sudden her phone buzzes loudly. Laura sighs and walks over to her bed. It’s probably just her dad checking on her, she thinks as she flips it open, squinting at the tiny, ancient screen.

One new text message from: Carmilla. 

Carm: Please tell me you’re doing something interesting

Laura’s frown morphs into a grin: I’m unpacking

Carm: fck

Laura: Why? What are you doing?

Carm: Your apartment is 400 Taylor St. #256 right?

Laura: Yeah, right next to that one skyscraper everyone is crazy about

Carm: Big Pink

Laura: YES that one

Carm: Hey, cupcake, do me a favor

Laura: ?

Carm: Open the door

Laura sits back on her heels, brow furrowed, and then looks up. There’s a familiar knock at the front door being repeated with less than average enthusiasm. Oh. Oh. Laura trips over her pile of box junk twice on the way to her feet. She scrambles towards the front door, doubles back a few steps, fixes her hair, breath in one two, and opens the door.

Carmilla smirks at her, a black leather bag thrown over her shoulder and a thick black coat Laura has never seen wrapped around her like a cloak. Beneath the coat is a black silk dress, black tights, and dainty black heels of a similar nature. Laura’s heart flutters, her fingers tightening around the doorknob as she takes a long, deep, breath.

Carmilla’s eyes flick down to her sweatshirt, back to her face. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Laura parrots back, her smile widening until her cheeks begin to ache. 

“You okay there cupcake?”

“Yeah, I’m just, you’re here!” Laura blurts out, gesturing wildly in Carmilla’s direction, her gaze diverting back to the the posh clothes and high-society air, her voice leveling out to it’s natural register as she adds, “And, uh, all dressed up.” 

Carmilla shrugs and looks down, “Mother likes us to look the part.”

“Oh. Right.” 

Carmilla rolls her eyes fondly and looks over Laura’s head into the apartment, “Is your dad here?”

“He left for work a few hours ago.”

“Well in that case, can I come in?”

Laura’s eyes widen and she jumps back from the doorway.

“Of course, yeah, sorry, I just… I’m a little out of it today I guess,” she rambles as Carmilla brushes past her to step over the threshold. 

“Well, this is certainly cozy,” Carmilla says as she strolls into the living room. Laura watches her move forward to inspect the baby pictures hanging on the wall. She’d never realized how smooth Carmilla’s stride is before, or the way she rolls her shoulders with each shifting expression, her eyes sharp even when her face relaxes into her usual boredom. Laura follows her into the apartment, the door only just clicking shut behind them.

“How is your old man anyway?” Carmilla asks before Laura can think of what to say. Laura cringes. She’d told Carmilla that she was going to ask her dad about her mom and Silas first thing so she could get it out in the open. When Carmilla had asked before, she’d just said that they were making a little progress, which, while it sounded like they’d discussed her mother, really just meant that they were getting used to living with each other again.

“Fine, things with him are fine. I mean, they’re still not like they used to be but… I think we’re getting there,” Laura mutters, feeling only half guilty at the little white lie. All she’s thought about for the last three days is how she’s going to tell her dad about everything that happened, is it so much to ask for five minutes where her life revolves around something else?

Carmilla only nods and continues to inspect things around the apartment.

“So, not that I mind or anything, but what are you doing here?” Laura asks.

“Mother leaves for her business trip tonight so she’s taking all her appointments in her home office. Kinda ruins the atmosphere,” Carmilla says, wrinkling her nose, “However, it does mean that she can’t drag us to any more high-society functions before she leaves.” She turns and smiles at Laura over her shoulder, her eyebrows raised as if to say “thank fucking god for business trips.”

Laura laughs, her shoulders relaxing as she leans against the couch. It takes her a moment to realize that the knot in her stomach is gone, the frustration slinking away as she and Carmilla fall into their regular banter. 

Like they hadn’t been apart at all.

“Remind me again how many dinners she took you to in three nights?” Laura asks, her smile softening as the calm ebs through her.

“Nine. Not counting the cocktail hour at La Fée.” 

“Wow, that’s- I mean, that must be hectic right?”

Carmilla grins and wanders back to Laura’s side, “Don’t you know, Cupcake? No self-respecting business woman stays for the whole event.” 

Laura rolls her eyes. Of course not.

“Come on,” she says, “My room is this way.”

~~~

Carmilla reacts to Laura’s room pretty much the same way she reacts to everything else. A quirked eyebrow, an inquisitive narrowing of the eyes. Laura knows it looks bad. She’d told Carmilla she was unpacking days ago, and unfortunately the evidence of such activities is against her.

“You certainly have been busy,” Carmilla teases. 

“If I had known you were going to come over…”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Carmilla asks, dropping onto Laura’s bed. Laura shakes her head and returns to the Laura sized hole in the middle of the floor. 

“Y’know,” she says after sifting through her things while Carmilla relaxes, “You could always help me with this stuff.”

Carmilla shrugs, “I am helping.”

“You’re laying on my bed, Carm.”

“I’m keeping you company.”

Laura turns to deliver a witty response but the words die on her lips. Carmilla has moved from her original pose on the bed and is curled up on Laura’s pillows with a sketchbook balanced on her lap. She looks as comfortable there as she used to on Laura’s futon at Silas, and all at once Laura can see it. She can see movie nights and afternoons spent on books and hot cocoa. She can see Carmilla teaching her how to judge people by the cars they drive out the window, art projects and arguments about what can and cannot go on the playlist. She can see Carmilla sound asleep next to her at eight in the morning, or the two of them laying on the floor eating pizza, or...

Carmilla raises an eyebrow at her. Laura realizes she’s been staring and quickly averts her eyes, looking instead at the window and then at the bare walls. She could put her NYC poster there, her collection of postcards over her bed, maybe a book case next to the door, her little cork board with her calendar next to the window...

Why hadn’t she seen it before? Why hadn’t she realized that everything she wants to do, even just sitting in her room reading a book, even things she’d never even known she wanted before that moment, she wants to do with Carmilla?

“Laura? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Laura says quickly, a blush creeping up her neck as she looks back at Carmilla. 

Gorgeous, sarcastic, annoying, passionate Carmilla. Carmilla who brings life into a room with her, who feels like the right place and the right time, like the past and the future all mixed together...

Carmilla, who is also narrowing her eyes and playing with her pen between her delicate pale fingers, saying “Really? Because you’re a terrible liar.”

“No, I just... thank you,” Laura manages to say. She’d always thought her heart would be pounding in her chest, her palms sweaty, her hands trembling, but all she feels is a slow warmth spreading across her skin, a gentle giddiness rising in her chest. 

Somehow, that makes it worse.

“What?” Carmilla asks, her sketchbook forgotten as she stares at Laura in confusion.

Laura shrugs, her eyes dropping to the box of keepsakes on her lap, “For keeping me company.”

Carmilla looks surprised, but she quickly hides it behind a wall of scrutiny, scrunching up her nose and leaning forward in an effort to see Laura better, “Are you sure you aren’t ill?”

“Yeah,” Laura laughs, her heart fluttering at Carmilla’s concern, “I’m sure.”

Carmilla settles back into the pillows with a skeptical frown, “Fine, but if you puke on everything I am not cleaning it up.”

“Fair enough,” Laura agrees.

Satisfied, Carmilla goes back to her sketching. Laura tries to focus on the boxes in front of her, but every once in awhile she finds herself glancing over to Carmilla. She just wants to make sure she’s there, that all of this is real. 

She thinks that maybe she can’t imagine them existing anywhere without the other.

~~~

By the time Laura’s dad gets home, all of the boxes previously inhabiting Laura’s room are folded and stacked by the front door. Neither Laura nor Carmilla hear him come in, both equally invested in the scrapbook Laura has pulled out of her newly constructed bookcase.

“And this was the camping trip where we almost got ransacked by a bear. The troop leader panicked and we spent the night in the campgrounds community lodge instead of our campsite. For the next three years my dad packed bear spray in my backpack every day,” Laura explains as she gestures to a picture of herself with four other girls in matching green uniforms.

“I cannot believe you let them dress you in that hideous uniform for eight years,” Carmilla replies.

“Girl Scout uniforms aren’t hideous!”

“Riiiiight... because a devoted member like you wouldn’t be completely brainwashed or anything.”

“Look, regardless of whether or not the colors clashed, those uniforms were comfortable as all get out. And they had pockets.”

Carmilla rolls her eyes, her lazy smile infectious in every way, “Well, perhaps they were only distasteful then. If they had pockets.”

Laura shakes her head, biting her lip to keep from encouraging Carmilla with a smile.

“Okay, now this you’re going to like. This is the haunted house that was at the end of town near the library…”

Carmilla leans closer to get a good look at the faded polaroid, her shoulder brushing against Laura as she does so.

“No kidding. That looks like early 1850’s at the latest. Does anyone live there?”

“Not since 1994. Apparently the old owner died in the living room and no one noticed for a few weeks. One of the guys in my 6th grade science claimed his brother snuck in and saw this weird stain on the floor where the body decomposed.”

“Look at you, Hollis. Now I know what they mean when they say to get you a girl that can do both,” Carmilla mutters distractedly. Laura looks at her in surprise. Was that…. flirting?

“You’re staring again,” Carmilla says suddenly.

“Sorry,” Laura murmurs, looking down at the pictures instead.

“Oh no, it’s no problem at all, doesn’t everyone like to be scrutinized for no reason whatsoever?” Despite the softness of Carmilla’s voice, her tone takes on a hint of a chill. Laura furrows her brow. Really?

“I already said sorry,” Laura sighs. Carmilla frowns, her eyes flickering from Laura to the scrapbook. She turns the page and points at the next picture; a pastel house surrounded by picnic tables.

“What about this?”

Laura shrugs, “That’s the ice cream parlor on main street. Whenever we completed a troop fundraiser, they would take us out for ice cream. They tore it down a couple years ago to build a new retail building. It’s still there, just, now it’s at the end of this brick building with apartments and stuff.”

“I bet I can guess your favorite flavor,” Carmilla says, nudging Laura gently. Laura glances over at her. Carmilla raises one eyebrow, a small, apologetic smile on her lips.

“Fine,” Laura replies, “Guess.”

“Cookie Dough.”

Laura gasps, “That is so not fair! You cheated!”

“Watching you stuff your face with chips ahoy all semester is not cheating.”

“Well… I bet I can guess your favorite flavor!”

Carmilla snorts, “Really?”

Laura scrunches up her face, “I’m thinking that it definitely has to be something chocolate.”

“Nope.”

“Shut up!”

Carmilla laughs, and rolls onto her side, “Do you want me to tell you?”

“No, I can totally figure it out!”

“Mint Chocolate chip.”

Laura groans in exasperation “That totally has chocolate in it.”

“I never said it didn’t,” Carmilla teases.

“You are so-”

A soft knock on the open door diverts their attention. Laura’s dad is standing in the doorway, his badge from the firm still clipped to his button down.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says.

“Dad! No, not at all, uh, this is Carmilla,” Laura explains.

“Oh, so you’re the new friend I’ve heard so much about!”

Carmilla looks at Laura slyly, “I wasn’t aware I was a topic of conversation.”

Laura blushes furiously and rolls off of her bed to straighten herself out, “So, uh, did you need anything, Dad?”

“Oh no, I just came to see if your friend was planning to stay for dinner. Y’know, since you didn’t tell me that anyone was coming over and I was a little surprised when I heard voices…” 

“Right, yeah, sorry about that. It was sort of a last minute thing…” Laura rambles.

“Hey, woah, I’m just kidding, Jellybean! Now if you’d left the apartment, well- anyway, I just came to see if Carmilla was going to be staying for dinner. I’m making my famous pot pie,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Hollis,” Carmilla says from behind her. 

Laura smiles stiffly. Her dad and her best friend who she maybe might have a crush on sitting at the same table and making small talk. Good. Awesome. Perfect.

~~~

Approximately one hour and fifteen minutes later, Laura finds herself seated beside Carmilla at the small kitchen table, her dad directly across from them, and a steaming savory pie in the middle.

“So Laura tells me the two of you met in history class?” he asks Carmilla. Laura sneaks a look at Carmilla out of the corner of her eye. There isn’t a single trace of annoyance on her face. In fact, Carmilla looks calm, serene almost. Laura makes a small o with her mouth. This must be what Carmilla is like when she’s impressing her mother’s friends.

“Monday morning on the first day of the term,” Carmilla confirms, daintily raising a forkful of chicken and sauce to her mouth.

“Wow, I couldn’t have hoped for anything better,” her dad sighs, “Laura probably told you how worried I was when I dropped her off. She’d never been away from home before, and, well, with everything that happened, I’m just so glad she found a friend like you right off the bat, y’know? She’s told me so much about how you and… Danny, right? How much you helped her study and settle into Silas and really I just want you girls to know how much it means to me.”

“It was my pleasure,” Carmilla replies smoothly. “Laura has been a wonderful addition to the Silas student body. I’m glad you’re alright with her staying, after everything that happened this past term.”

Laura chokes a little, trying desperately to stem the obnoxious coughing fit as she looks wildly from Carmilla to her father. They’re both looking at her strangely, as if the timing was a little too perfect to be a coincidence.

“Excuse me, sorry,” she squeaks, keeping her head down. Oh god what was she going to do? She hadn’t actually thought Carmilla would talk to her dad. Carmilla doesn’t talk to anyone!

“Yes, she told me about the bullying after she came home. Some girl in your dorm that was targeting her?” Laura’s dad sighs, “Laura only gave me the most basic details, but I could tell it was very upsetting from the way she talked about it. That’s why I’m so glad she had friends like you to help her through it.”

Laura feels the blood rush out of her face. She quickly glances at Carmilla. Her face is frozen in a perplexed frown, her fork lying sideways on her plate. Laura sucks in a breath, willing, needing Carmilla to look at her. To know that this isn’t what it looks like.

“Well, what are friends for?” Carmilla says eventually.

“Exactly! That’s exactly the attitude I like to see. It broke my heart to know I wasn’t there for my little girl, but when she started talking to me about you and her other friends, I knew she’d found the right people. I’ll definitely be checking in with her more this next term, of course, but it really does ease my mind to know she’s not alone.”

Carmilla nods stiffly, her gaze flickering to Laura and then down to her plate. 

“Alright then, enough of this serious talk! Who wants cake?”

~~~~

When the dishes are rinsed and stacked next to the dishwasher, Laura’s dad finally makes his exit to his office to finish up some work. Carmilla gathers her things silently and Laura walks her to the door. 

“Carmilla-”

“Don’t, Laura. You let him think you were upset about the bullying so you wouldn’t have to tell him about your mother, didn’t you?”

Laura cringes and looks over her shoulder, causing Carmilla to groan. In one fluid motion she’s got the door open and is stepping into the hall, Laura at her heels.

“Carmilla, wait! It wasn’t like I told him about our thing to cover it up okay? I just… I started at the beginning and he got so upset I couldn’t tell him the rest,” Laura explains.

“God, Laura, do you really think I care? I’m not pissed because you can’t get your shit together, I’m pissed because you didn’t tell me! Because now that conversation is the first thing your dad is going to think of when he finds out, don’t make that face you know he will, that I was the one you told him about,” Carmilla snaps, “You didn’t even bother to tell him that you hated me, too! That you tried to make me miserable just as much as I did! What the fuck, Laura?!”

“Woah, hey, all I said was that I had a problem with someone and he filled in the rest. I didn’t correct him because he would have asked about everything else! Besides, you heard him in there. It’s not like I just told him the bad stuff and left it at that. You don’t really think I’d do that to you, right? You’re my best friend!” Laura exclaims. 

Carmilla shakes her head and turns away.

“Hey, I know he caught you off guard, and I’m sorry,” Laura says softly, reaching out to catch the sleeve of Carmilla’s coat. “I should have told you that I hadn’t told him about mom yet, but I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it myself okay? I was embarrassed and… a little scared, too.”

Carmilla sighs and looks at Laura through her dark, thick, eyelashes. There’s a disappointment in her eyes that cuts deeper than all of the anger combined.

“Is there anything else I should know?” she asks, “Any other little secrets I might stumble into unawares?”

They're standing close now, huddling against the wall as if attending a secret meeting. Laura bites her lip and thinks of the way Carmilla’s coat feels against her skin, soft and smooth like silk. She thinks about the way her heart is doing backflips because of how close they’re standing, and the urge building in her shoulders to just pull Carmilla as close as she possibly can.

“There’s not, I promise,” Laura whispers.

Carmilla nods and pushes off the wall, “Well in that case, I guess I’ll see you whenever.”

With one last toss of her hair, Carmilla is down the hall and around the corner to the elevators.

Laura lets herself back into the apartment and stands there for a moment, back against the door, eyes fixed on the slightly crooked floorboards.

“Everything okay?” Laura’s dad calls from the living room. Laura can hear the TV, the news station jingle.

“Yeah dad. I’m pretty tired though, I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Alright, sweetheart, goodnight!”

“Good night dad!”

Laura walks to her room and gently closes the door, looking around at her freshly decorated room with a forlorn sigh.

What the hell is she going to do?


End file.
